The Wintry Guardians
by CanusFalcon
Summary: A 300 year old immortal, Jack Frost, has only just found out that time-travelling was possible. What's with 19th century Arendelle? This isn't a prank the other Guardians played on him. Well, he could still have fun, right? But with an ancient threat looming on the horizon, how much fun could the frost and snow have? Jelsa.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Disney Pixar or Dreamworks. You know the gist of this. But if I did I would try my best to get the two companies to do a collaboration so Jelsa becomes Canon (If that is the word).**

**A/N: Unfortunately for me, I've only ever watched both Frozen and ROTG once. So, the characters are probably going to be OC (But aren't all fanfics the author's spin on the characters) but I'm working hard on remedying that. **

**-Jelsa. Jack/Elsa. **Obvious not?

-You may review, and that would make me _really_ happy. A happier author would write more even if she's drowning in her schoolwork.

-Rated T just for possible future scenes that involve fighting. I _need_ to read up on fight scenes argh.

**Setting: **Post Frozen and ROTG, but the time has been switched back to 3 years after Frozen. Read on and I'll explain it.

* * *

The large expanse of blue sky was painted before her, over the endless stretch of sea the same colour of the sky it reflects. Birds were twittering on the branches of the lone tree beside her, larks declaring their joy to the world.

The day had a pleasant sort of warmth that made her feel all fuzzy inside. For a day on the last day of summer, it felt as if they were at the peak of it. Nonetheless, Arendelle's temperature never got unbearable. Even if she _did_ feel that it was getting too hot, she could simply remedy it by throwing on a thin layer of ice on her skin.

Today was certainly a day to feel joyful about.

Ordinarily, she'd feel this contented only if she had a cup of hot coffee on a frigid winter's day-not that the cold ever bothered her-but today was an exception.

Today was most definitely different.

Elsa the Snow Queen of Arendelle who was leaning on the balcony's balustrade gives a slight smile at the thought.

To think, it's been three years already, her little sister, Anna, 'all grown up' now! Well, not that she wasn't of age three years before-but today, she was as old as she herself was when she was at her coronation.

She hopes that Anna's nerves weren't as wrecked as hers had been at the coronation.

The heavens must know that _she _had been ridiculously high-strung. She recalls pacing around in her bedroom for hours on end before sleeping the night before.

That night, her palms were sweating and that layer of moisture had frozen into a thin silver of ice that covered her hands. They had been shaking badly. When she had finally found the compulsion to lie on her bed once more, she had only trembled and shivered. And none of that was from the cold.

That summer had been a very warm one before she had turned it into her personal snowy heaven and an icy hell for all of Arendelle's people.

She had vague recollections at losing her cool, not literally, in her childhood. All of it happened _after_ she had hit Anna with her powers and gave her flame hair that streak of blonde. Today, even though Anna has assured her that she was completely fine with it, and that she didn't blame Elsa for it at all, she still feels twinges of guilt.

Her childhood breakdowns involved curling up into a ball and leaning against the door, of which Anna was most probably on the other side as well, either knocking incessantly or having given up for the day on trying to get her to open it.

Or, she'd be pacing, screaming soundlessly. The ice would break out everywhere around her and it'd become winter inside her room.

Or the bed. The bed was a good choice. Warm. Comforting.

But before all that, before Anna, when she lost her temper, she could have sworn that she had seen patterns of snowflakes appear on the other side of the glass window. Intricate, fern-like pretty little things that showed themselves to her even in the heat of summer. Of course, that could've been a childhood fantasy, a memory that she's invented to entertain herself.

A loud knocking on her bedroom door breaks her out of her thoughts.

"My queen, the gates are about to be opened soon," The steward, Ivar, called out, his voice sounding slightly muffled.

"Yes, I'll be down soon. Thank you." Her servants had once called her an ever gracious queen. What ruler thanked their lowly subjects?

But her policy was that the queen regnant shouldn't ever treat her servants like lowly dirt. Maybe Weaselton… oops, Weselton's duke might contest that opinion, but she held that thought to herself like a pastor would hold the Bible's words. She wasn't about to abandon that sort of humility anytime soon.

One might call her proud. But she was one who gave credit when it was due.

And that was probably why she was allowing Anna to marry Kristoff.

She had better get downstairs soon; she was going to have to witness their ceremony. Without her, no vows would be said, no procession could start, and certainly no celebrations could commence.

She imagined that Kristoff was already starving by now. The boy who was raised by trolls could certainly eat what an entire army of trolls could scarf down. He was perpetually hungry, but so was Anna-much to her amusement. The married couple would probably spend half their time eating.

Elsa looks into the mirror to give her face one last touch of makeup. _Just a little more plum eye shadow_…

She almost frowned at her appearance, even if it was immaculate-pale blonde hair done into a braided French twist, just as it had been done on her coronation day, makeup done perfectly and evenly, her wearing a midnight blue variant of her usual powder blue dress-the darker choice in colour so as to not offset the white of the bride.

There was a slight problem.

She didn't look a day older than she had been when she was crowned queen. Most women should be delighted over that fact, but she wasn't nearly as chuffed by it. She worries that it might be another add-on from her powers… But since she was a worrywart, she might just be over-thinking.

She should thank any deity-she wasn't a firm believer in a God, however many sessions of church she should've attended as a typical Norwegian child should have had-maybe Baldr, that she didn't seem to age much. Then again, three years didn't alter a woman's outer appearance by leaps and bounds. A child's three years on the other hand…

"Queen Elsa!" This time it was the cook-a portly woman that she was all so fond of. Helge was one of the few servants that weren't shut out of the castle during its isolation to Arendelle. The castle's inhabitants _did_ need to eat after all.

Nowadays, she let Helge fuss over her as a mother cat would fuss over her kitten. Helge tried too hard to fatten her up, giving her humongous portions of food. There were a few occasions too many when she had to apologize to Helge for not finishing the braised Svinekoteletter or bread with Fiskesuppe.

Helge had also given her a copy of the Holy Bible, not that she had ever touched it. Did God intend for her,_ a freak of nature_, to exist? Did Eve even have such powers? She'd think not. Hence, it remained in a deep recess in some closet or another.

"Queen Elsa, Princess Anna's asking 'what's keeping you!', quoted exactly. I knows that you look perfect, so clear out of that room and calm Princess Anna down!" Helge's yell came again. "If you don't come out soon I'll get all the young men around to knock the door down!"

"Don't you dare!" Elsa cried. "I like my door very much!" She picks her dress up and scurries towards the door before flinging it open. Helge was dressed in her Sunday best-a brightly coloured, clean Norwegian frock.

"See!" Helge beams triumphantly at the Ivar. "I told you that she comes out when I call her!" The old man's grey coloured brows furrowed and his left hand reaches up to pat his remaining tuft of hair down with all the dignity he could manage.

"I swear, Queen Elsa is gender discriminatory," Ivar muttered.

"Sorry? I can't hear you," Elsa smiles widely. "Now, tell me. Where is the lovely blushing bride-to-be?"

* * *

Jack didn't know how he came to be here.

One minute he's outside Jamie's bedroom. The next minute, he fell.

He didn't even know how he fell. Maybe he somehow slipped on the ice on the windowsill. Maybe the Wind somehow blew too hard. Maybe he lost his grip on his staff and while fumbling subconsciously to grab it, he fell backwards and the Wind was sleeping somewhere, forgetting to cushion his fall.

All these maybes.

None of them seemed hugely plausible, though.

And he must've knocked his head too hard or something, because he doesn't quite remember ever waking up in the middle of verdure.

Did mortal young adults feel this disorientated when they wake up after a night of clubbing?

He remembers hearing the Wind tell him that there was this person who woke up in Paris after a night of clubbing in the United Kingdom. Apparently, he had used his _passport_-whatever that was, since he himself never had any need for such an item-as the "ID" for the club to allow him in, and on his way home in the cab had somehow changed course and booked a flight to Paris with his phone. And _Voila!_ The city of the Eiffel Tower it was!

Jack Frost blinks as he lets his long fingers comb through his white hair, flattening it. He sits up and looks around for his staff. Thankfully, his staff wasn't far off-just a foot away. If it had been a little further from him he'd probably have a spot of trouble trying to comb through the tall stalks of grass.

He picks himself and his staff up and looks around him.

Okay.

He was in the middle of this large area of grassland, on some sort of hill. To his far left and right were the beginnings of a thick forest. At least, he thinks that those forests should be thick-they looked to be so.

By his feet were a few trodden small white flowers-he apologizes to the flowers, says that he didn't mean to cause them huge discomforts. The flowers spatter all around over the field in sudden spurts of white, blooming together as wildflowers in summer should.

Something about this place looked vaguely familiar-it was an old memory, a very old memory at that. This couldn't be the place he was trying to dredge up from his memory anyway. If this was a place he couldn't remember, it probably wasn't the same place.

Wait. What. Wait.

Summer.

It was _summer_?

He blinks. Oh damn. It is summer. His senses tell him that it's positively summer in this place.

What happened to winter? What happened to him formerly being in the Northern Hemisphere?

But this didn't even feel like Australia! Did the Sandman somehow have the power to put him to sleep for six months straight?

"Hello, anybody there?" He calls out. Were there any other Guardians in the area? Were they playing some really odd prank on him, plopping him in this unknown place with nothing but his staff and clothes? Then again, he always only had his staff and clothes.

He hears nothing but the faint chirping of birds in the distance. He hears a _very_ distant noise of the clamouring of people.

Oh well. The Guardians would really need to pay for this later.

Jack shrugs as he picks a long stalk of grass off his sweater that was bothering him as it poked through the blue material.

Maybe he should go to that particular place to have a little bit of fun. Stir up some trouble with the grown-ups and bring a smile to a few kids even if it wasn't winter. Who says that winter couldn't come early and bring cheer?

Jack Frost smiles slightly, and as he clutches his staff tightly, lets the wind carry him swiftly down the hill and speeds him towards whatever human populace that he would go to next.

The wind carries him, obeying him. It lets him do twists and turns in the air, lets him do a somersault as he hollers in delight, revelling in the freedom and joy of flying. He laughs.

Then he spies the houses, tavern and market square from his high vantage point.

Oh damn.

This place _was_ a place he had been to.

Arendelle.

Oh dear.

The Arendelle of Norway with its pretty fairytale-like castle sitting in front of the village that was ensconced between all these hills around him, the castle's stone basking in the sunlight as it stands proud and tall before the calm harbour. The same castle's walls giving a sort of pink diaphanous glow and its green spires gleaming under the sunlight.

This was the same Arendelle where traders visit every summer-evidenced by the 19th ships floating innocuously in the water before him.

_Why was he in 19__th__ Century Arendelle? _

Jack Frost lowers himself and stares at the window of a girl's room that he had once visited often before she turned seven. The girl he had drawn anything he could think of all over the window, because she was upset and he had wanted to put a smile on her face.

He was going to have a very long chat with the Man of the Moon tonight.

And hopefully, that smarmy dude would actually give him an answer to his questions.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I think that I've gotten the present tenses/past tenses a little mixed up. Argh.

I know nothing about Norway. But somehow, it doesn't exactly come as a surprise that Norway's Oslo was once named Christiana/Kristiana (Depending on the year) But I'll trust in Wiki in such things.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing! (Should I get along to replying to everyone out there..?)

* * *

As usual, he's barefooted. The clay tiles that he's now standing on aren't hot, and they radiate a pleasant sort of warmth. This was Arendelle in all its summer glory alright.

He knows this place all too well. He _had _spent years of summer here; it had held some special significance to him. He remembers being hugely saddened when he had heard the Wind whisper tales of Arendelle's fall to him.

Sometime after the Queen Elsa's death, Arendelle's two princes, the sons of Princess Anna, had competed for the throne. None of them had actually inherited the throne it, the rightful heir having being murdered by his younger brother (more like his younger brother's consort) and the younger one succumbing to _consumption_, otherwise known to the 21st century world as Tuberculosis.

Sometime after that, the son of the 5th brother of Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, a cousin of the two dead princes, came up to Arendelle and claimed it as his own, seeing as there wasn't any ruler anyway. Not that it mattered. Arendelle had a sharp vicissitude of fate and fortunes.

Storms had been rampant in the area, the sea becoming a mad force of nature, a source of pure destruction. It swept boats away-kept the traders away. The sea began to deceive even the local fishermen-appearing calm and serene one minute to get the men to cast their nets, the next second swallowing them up with huge waves. Where the sea had once been Arendelle's ally, the sea had become a pugnacious, vicious being that the people feared. And even if Arendelle had survived the sudden bellicosity of the sea, it hadn't survived the great fire (started from a bakery) that swept through the town on a hot early autumn's day. The wreckage was subsequently inundated into its watery grave.

The Wind said that Arendelle's fall came the moment the rightful rulers of its throne had been lost to Valhalla, Folkvangr, or maybe Helgafjell, but hopefully not Hel. Queen Elsa had been a _very_ nice little girl when he had known her.

So it was naturally a little unnerving to be standing in a place where he had known to have been destroyed a little more than a hundred years ago. He couldn't have _died_, could he? He didn't feel particularly dead. He did feel very much alive with his wintry magic coursing through his veins. He waves his staff experimentally and a thin sliver of ice appears on the ground. If flying hadn't proved it, his magic was still working then.

He looks around him. The market square was strangely devoid of people. There wasn't anyone he could ask for the date and time, even if they could see him. There's also a silence where there hadn't been before-it had been positively noisy just minutes before he arrived in Arendelle's market place. Where was everyone?

He spins around just as he hears a door open and slammed quickly. A middle-aged lady, dressed in that typical 19th century Norwegian outfit, something that he recognized to be the traditional Norwegian clothing, emerged from one of the buildings and she looks _really _flustered. Was it just him, or were those clothes too brightly coloured for a typical peasant? If his memory served him correctly, didn't peasants in the 19th century dress drably, in dull looking, not-so-very-clean attire?

"Oh dear, oh dear, I'm late! Ooh why didn't Helge think to wake me up! She's the cook for the Queen and her entire staff but she could've remembered to rouse me from my slumber! I'm a little sick, not dead!" She muttered as she walked quickly and noisily in her wooden shoes. "Now I'm going to miss the vows, dear me!"

Was there anything more to do than to follow her? Being around people, even if none of them could see him, was going to be better than standing all alone in a market square, right?

And, even if he had powers over all things winter, he couldn't help but feel a slight chill run down his spine as he spots the small sign nailed just above the door that he had heard slam shut. _Gerte og Alf-Bakeri_. And he knows that in such a small town as Arendelle was, there could only be one bakery-the very same bakery that had started the fire that destroyed the town he was standing in.

He tries to brush that thought off. He needed answers. He needed to know why he was standing in a place that was destroyed oh so long ago.

_Come on_, _night, please come soon! _

* * *

"Are the 8000 salad plates laid out yet?" Anna asks. She gave her older sister a weak smile.

"If they aren't already outside, Ivar would get his pay docked," Elsa grinned as she marvelled at her sister's appearance.

"Don't do that! He's a nice guy!" Anna protested indignantly, some colour returning to her pale face.

"You know I won't do that," Elsa smirks. "You're taking the chance to change your lonely world, so smile, chin up!"

Anna shrugged slightly as she stood up from her chair. "This dress. What do you think of it?"

"It's splendid!" Elsa exclaimed as she touched the lace material that held patterns of shamrocks, daisies, snowflakes (in tribute to her) that bordered the entirety of the sweetheart neckline.

The dressmakers had been specially contracted from Christiana-one of them came from the faraway England! Apparently, he had seen Queen Victoria's wedding dress with his own eyes, seen all the pretty Honiton lace and endless waves of cream coloured satin.

Anna's dress didn't have all that extravagance, of course. Anna being Anna, refusing to have a mile long train. But she still looked prettier than a picture with the pretty veil placed carefully behind the white flower wreath. The white made her flame hair look so _alive_, and Elsa feels a tinge of envy. She'd never get her hair to look so vibrant. Above the hemline on the pale satin were adornments of some sort of pink flower. Elsa admires the pink diamonds that Anna wore on her necklace-just as the trolls did really.

"I wish the Trolls could all attend though…" Anna sighed despondently. "I mean, Bulda and Cliff are coming, but they're going to be at the sidelines… the people still don't think too well to them. And Pabbie can't come…"

"Anna! You know all too well that they don't mind you getting married _in _Arendelle, seeing as you'd be visiting them later anyhow." Elsa also knew that they'd be in for a 'small' celebration hosted by the Trolls, not that she was going to mention that, of course. That was going to be a surprise to the newlyweds. "You don't see me complaining on how Marshmallow isn't attending, do you?"

Anna couldn't help but giggle. "Well, you are right, as usual. But you don't see me inviting Marshmallow."

"Are you trying to lay on the guilt?"

"Your Marshmallow did throw me off a cliff."

"You provoked him; he was only trying to defend himself! And besides, Kristoff told me that you landed alright down there, like landing on… Was it clouds? Never mind that-you've twisted the story. Marshmallow _did not _throw you off the cliff. Last I checked, you were the one who cut the rope. He won't do anything to harm you bodily, I think."

"You think. He had tried to kill me!"

"He so did not!"

To their side, Anna's lady-in-waiting clears her throat. "Pardon me, Queen Elsa and Princess Anna, but you are required in the chapel. The pastor seems to want to run through the motions with you."

"Right," Elsa says with as much dignity as she could, pulling herself to full height. "Do I go to him now?"

"Queen Elsa, have you seen Kristoff around?" Ivar sticks his head into the door. "I need to get him to put his cufflinks on-he's chucked them to the side again..." Ivar says the last word with such exasperation that Elsa couldn't help but giggle slightly.

"Nope. You could try the toilets, he might be there," Elsa shrugged.

"Have you seen Olaf then?" Anna inquires just as Elsa was about to leave the room.

Elsa shook her head. There was ever so much to do. Why had they ever wanted to open the gates? Living life alone was _so_ much easier, really. No parties. No people to attend to. No bothering with all these infinitesimal and yet hugely troublesome details.

"I'll go look for him if I'm free."

* * *

Jack Frost is perched on top of a wall as he watches people meandering slowly into a chapel. As far as he knows, today is Princess Anna's wedding to this Kristoff person. Huh.

Didn't Princess Anna marry Prince Hans?

What was she doing, getting married to a man who was once an ice harvester? Jack hasn't seen this Kristoff person yet, but he gathers enough from the people's murmurings, gossiping and small talk that Kristoff Bjorgman was no prince. _This is confusing_…

"Hey, have you seen Sven?" A loud voice says beside him.

He's all too shocked to process the thought that he was talking to a misshapen snowman with a white cloud floating above it.

"Are… are you talking to me?" He splutters finally.

"Hello, I don't think I was talking to anyone else around here, am I?" The snowman thing replied cheerfully.

He said the only logical thing then. "Umm, are you a snowman?"

"Yeah, of course I am! Do I look like an elf to you?" Jack hurriedly shook his head at that. "I'm Olaf." He holds out his… hand. A stick of a hand, but a hand nonetheless, so Jack thinks that it's only polite that he shakes Olaf's hand. "What's your name?"

"Umm…" The people weren't paying them any attention-just a few funny glances at Olaf before turning their gaze away and they continued their excited chatter as they milled into the chapel building. "My name is Jack Frost. I'm the Guardian of Fun."

"Jack Frost? Are you saying you're _the _Jack Frost?"

"_The_ Jack Frost?"

"Well, there's only one of _the_ Jack Frost out there, you know? The other Jack Frost's are all knockoffs, or some Jack with the last name Frost! So, are you _the_ Jack Frost? You don't look it-they say _the_ Jack Frost looks like a snowman, like me! And they say he's plenty evil and causes too much trouble here and there with all the frigid winters he brings… But I don't mind the snow and neither does our Queen Elsa, nor does any of the people if they have the clothes they need, or any of the Trolls, or Marshmallow, or Sven and Sven the Kristoff or some Santa Claus even further up north from where we are…"

"Wait, hold up."

Olaf blinks his cartoony eyes. "Yes?"

"I am the Jack Frost that… brings winter," Jack muttered. "How are you able to see me?"

"Well, I'm a snowman, of course! If you're like, Jack Frost-Jack Frost, then of course I can see the embodiment of winter! Do you mean to say that people don't see you?"

"Umm… Yes. They don't usually see me," Jack nods. "The people here can't see me," He points out. "Look, they aren't even giving me a second glance."

"Wait, let me have a little freak out moment here! I met _the _Jack Frost!" Olaf screamed delightedly as he hopped around on the wall. Olaf's steps were precarious and Jack's worried that the snowman might plummet down to the water below the bridge.

Again, no one paid them any attention.

"Sorry, I'm just so, so excited that I met you! I've been wanting to meet you for forever! Like Princess Anna always says, 'for the first time in forever'-I've met you! Oh my snow!" Olaf brings his twig arms to his face and gives another scream. "Come on, do I get a hug? All the snowmen in the world would be _so _jealous that I've met you, not that I've ever seen any snowman walk and talk like I do, but pretty _please_?"

Jack hesitated. "Umm…"

"Please?" Olaf widens his eyes.

Jack didn't really do hugs for strangers, and especially not for snowmen, but who was he to refuse this wide-eyed, innocent-looking Olaf? He seemed so happy to meet him… Who was he to crush his happiness? He lets his arms wrap awkwardly around Olaf. He could confirm to anyone who was curious that cartoon-like eyes could pull off the puppy look all too well.

"Ooh, you're cold, just like I am! So you feel warm, great! You should really meet Elsa, she created me you know-she's so wonderful!" Olaf cleared his throat. "I get carried away easily, sorry Jack. But you've really not talked with anyone else for a long time?"

"Umm… I've finally found people who could see me-it's a _really_ recent thing. But they are in Burgess… The others who see me are always travelling everywhere round the world, and I'm not really sure where they are."

Olaf looks at Jack sadly and pets his hair with a twig. "You poor thing. You know, Elsa and Anna lived in isolation for years, like, fourteen years or something. But it's all okay for them now! Elsa's happy with her ice and snow, maybe not the throne but she's the queen, so… And Anna's happy with Sven the Kristoff! Sven is happy with me…"

"Who are they?" Jack cuts in. He really did need to know how he got back into the 19th century, and why some facts don't seem to match up with what he knows.

Olaf blinks slowly. "Umm… Elsa's my creator, the queen. Then Anna's the princess who's getting married to Sven the Kristoff, and Sven's Sven the Kristoff's reindeer!"

"So, this Anna is not getting married to Prince Hans?"

"What! There's _no way_ that he is going to marry Anna! I don't know where you've heard that but that's _no way that's happening!_" Olaf says the last bit in a hushed, ominous tone. "That Hans tried to kill Elsa, why would Anna marry her? And Hans is evil. Evil. Evil. Evil-"

"Okay, calm down. Chill. What happened?"

"Umm, I don't know a lot of things-I've only been created after Elsa left the castle and turned the place into a winter wonderland…"

"Just a summary, please." Jack's mind is spinning slightly. He doesn't ever remember anyone saying that Hans tried to kill Elsa. Oh Man of the Moon. Damn it. He's getting a headache. Why would anyone _want_ to kill Elsa anyway? Had Elsa turned into a horrible brat during the time he stopped visiting Arendelle? That didn't really seem likely, her parents seemed like really grounded people. Elsa didn't have a ditzy airhead of a mother and an abusive alcoholic of a father…

"Summary? Short version, right? So, umm… One day-Elsa's coronation, so Anna says she's getting married to Prince Hans and Elsa loses it and she blasts a bunch of ice at the Duke of Weaselton and she's scared and she runs away and builds an ice castle and poof I'm created in the process. Anna goes after Elsa and meets Sven the Kristoff along the way and they go to Elsa's castle. Anna tries to climb the cliff and fails and I find a stairway so they could go to Elsa's castle. So Anna and Elsa talk and somehow Elsa gets mad and creates Marshmallow who's now residing in Elsa's castle, and then Anna's blasted, by accident, in the heart with Elsa's magic."

He thinks his head couldn't positively spin more than it already is.

"Umm… blah, blah, blah… Hans is in fact evil and does not give Anna a kiss of true love, neither does Sven the Kristoff for that matter, but Elsa's love saves Anna. You know, love melts all, things like that. It was _so sweet_. Then three years later Anna is marrying her ice harvester. She has bad taste in men, you know, Anna? I like Sven the Kristoff _loads_, don't get the wrong idea-but couldn't she have gotten a person who had a better sense of humour?"

"Mm…" Jack agrees, but noncommittally. "So, the… wedding is today?"

"Yeap! We're having chocolate cake and this ice-cream thing! You know, if Sven the Kristoff was still an ice harvester, he'd have great business right now!"

Again, Jack just nods. His head was throbbing painfully by now.

"Hey, Jack, come in with me?"

Jack nods at Olaf. He tries to ignore the fact that the wind somehow feels a little chilly. Oh well, he'd just gatecrash a wedding. No harm done since none of the people attending could actually see him. Maybe he'd revert to his older antics and freeze a candelabrum, if they had one. Churches had them, weddings had them... so there should be one of those candelabras, right? Or maybe he'd just create a skating rink later while the people were dancing. Though, something tells him that a skating rink-for dancing-would not be touted by the locals as the 'most original idea'.

Oh well. He'd think of something-maybe try to create a snowman like Olaf that could talk and annoy and charm the rest of the world. But maybe he couldn't actually do that, could he? Olaf radiated a foreign magic, something decidedly Elsa-magic and not Jack Frost-sort-of-magic. He shrugs the thought away. Thinking too much would not do wonders for his headache.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Well, these things are cute so I might as well put them here. I don't own Frozen or ROTG, else I'd own a huge underground company that somehow manages Dreamworks and Pixar. In which I'd do a Frozen-ROTG-Tangled-Whatevers crossover. Maybe throw in The Ring hahaha since it's owned by Dreamworks. But since I do not own the two lovely companies,I don't own my lovely movies. **

**A/N: I know nothing about Lutheran weddings. Nada. I chose Lutheran since Norway of today is predominantly Lutheran, and borrowed Anna's vows from a website… like… after Googling "Lutheran Wedding Vows". Yep.**

**If any Christian reading this is somehow offended by how nonchalant Elsa is to the vows, I apologize. **

**Small recap on the current timeline: To ease any confusion any of you might have-**

**The current time where all these events are happening is in the post-Frozen timeline, as well as post ROTG. However, Jack's memories which involves the world of Frozen (Arendelle) is different from what the timeline currently is. In his memories, Frozen hasn't happened-which I've written for the result to be Anna having married Hans in that non-Frozen memory. **

**Technically, it seems like he has travelled through time into Arendelle, where everything is intact and the events in his memories aren't a reality. So, basically, post-Frozen, Elsa-Anna events all have happened. But those aren't in sync with Jack's memories. **

**(okay, I beat around the bush too much)**

**Thanks for reading, pressing the favourite and follow button, as well as putting in the effort to review!**

**Now I feel as if I should've typed Chp 1, 2 and 3 together. But never mind that now.**

* * *

"You've still not found Olaf?" Anna whispers her question to Elsa worriedly.

"No. Now, good luck and don't worry about anything Anna. I'll be waiting at the end of the aisle," Elsa gives her sister's shoulders one last comforting rub before she heads off towards the chapel. She could hear Anna's sigh. They had wanted _Olaf_ to walk her down the aisle-everyone loved Olaf, loved his little antics and innocence. Who could help but fall in love with such a cute, adorable little snowman? And even if anyone didn't like him, they'd never say it, lest contend with Queen Elsa's displeasure as they criticized her creations.

Anyway, Elsa couldn't do it herself, for obvious reasons.

Elsa enters the chapel that was filled to the brim with people. The silence slowly descended upon the people as she walked in, towards Pastor Sloss. People nudged each other, pointed at her, and then they'd give the person next to them a nudge. One by one they stopped their chatter and turned to face her. Somehow, they managed to bow simultaneously and she nodded in response.

She coughed awkwardly. "Has anyone seen Olaf anywhere?"

The silence broke as everyone began to speculate about where Olaf could be. Shouldn't that queer little magic snowman be with Princess Anna? Where could he be? Has anyone seen him? That thing-with a carrot for a nose and sticks for hands, buttons down his chest-

"He was here just moments ago," A small child quipped. "He was talking to somebody I can't see."

"Sorry?"

The child played with her long curly red hair nervously. "Um, he walked into the chapel when everybody else was walking in… All that time he kept talking and talking and talking to somebody I can't see!"

"So, Olaf was talking to someone you couldn't see?" Elsa approaches the child tentatively. She was terrible with younger children, and she did so hope that child wouldn't cry. She bends down to reach the child's eye level. "What's your name?"

Her previous encounters with children usually ended with them in tears, crying for their mothers. Sometimes, if she was lucky, the child would remain unresponsive, or blink at her with their wide child eyes. Although, she did have some pleasant meetings with children-them bringing her little bunches of flowers, and she'd have to stoop down to let them thread the flowers through her hair. They'd then exclaim 'pretty!', and she'd offer a smile generously in return.

Anna, on the other hand, received overwhelmingly positive responses from younger children-that was another thing that she envied the younger girl for.

"Mmhmm, he looked _really_ happy, happier than he usually is! And umm, my name is Karla Jespersen, and I'm pleased to meet you, my lady queen!"

"Alright, thank you. So, did you see where he had gone?" She almost heaves a sigh of relief that the child didn't burst into tears and that she seemed happy to be talking to her.

"Oh, no. But Olaf said that he was going to look for you!"

"Look for me?" Elsa cocked her head to the side. "When was that?"

"Look, there's Olaf!" Karla squealed as she pointed at the window. "There's Olaf!"

Elsa craned her head to look at where Karla was pointing at. She stepped back a little so she could gain a better view of the second floor. Sure enough, Olaf was hopping around on the second floor, his white body visible behind the small choir dressed in burgundy robes. Not that the choir would be singing during the ceremony itself of course, it was just their customary positions and they couldn't be persuaded to leave their usual post.

She almost groaned. Should she yell for Olaf, should she walk up the stairs (That were located outside of the main hall) to look for him or should she simply wait for him to come downstairs? She bit her lip as she pondered over the choices.

Finally, she gave a casual shrug and ended her dithering. Elsa the Snow Queen waves her hands and shoots a blast of ice out and forms an icy stairway to the second floor-received by her audience with a more loud gasps that cheers or clapping. Elsa brushes the reception aside and climbs the stairs.

"Olaf, Anna wants you now. You're going to have to walk her down the aisle," Elsa hisses at the bouncing snowman.

Oh why did they choose a snowman to walk her down the aisle? Why couldn't they have simply stuck to a traditional Norwegian wedding instead?

Oh, that's right. Olaf was Anna's best friend at the moment, sans the Trolls that weren't as well received as Olaf had been. Too bad they didn't know who else they could ask. Mother and father were dead, and they didn't have any particular relative that they actually liked… Their only other living relative, Lady Gunhild, was a crabby old lady that walked with a stick and did not hesitate to use it. She was positively batty.

And Anna didn't want to walk down a street with a procession behind her as a person or two played the fiddle-that took too much time, one quick ceremony and then they could be done with it and get to the food. Anna wanted to have some aspects of her wedding similar to Queen Victoria-a dress and a chapel wedding would do the trick. Any other gimmick that the Queen pulled was simply not needed.

"But-Ohh, Elsa, Elsa! You're here!" Olaf bounced up to her as he cracked his toothy grin.

"Yes, I'm here. Hurry, Kristoff is coming in soon and then the ceremony will start! Don't you remember that you're walking Anna down the aisle?"

"But-Right, Anna! She's important now, right! Say, Elsa-"

She didn't hear the rest of Olaf's sentence. She was too busy inspecting the strange boy by Olaf. A boy with the palest hair she's ever seen-was it white? It was windswept and tousled, not particularly long, but not exceedingly short either. His fringe covers most of his brows, but his eyes were visible-a pair of bright, light coloured blue crystals. That pretty set of eyes held all his mischievousness in them, constantly darting around.

And he wore the strangest clothes. His top was this blue, long sleeved tunic-(was it even a tunic?) that had patterns of all things hiemal on it-almost as if it was a dusting of snow on the warm looking material. Two strings hung by the material around his neck, where a hood was attached to it. For all the good workmanship and material of the top, his brown pants appeared rather tattered, and were frayed at the bottom. And he didn't wear any shoes-revealing his white, clean feet.

He looked vaguely familiar. She couldn't help but feel as if she had seen him somewhere before. That wasn't possible, was it? She didn't know much people, didn't meet much people even nowadays, save for her staff and the ambassadors from the nearby lands-all grizzled and old, rotund and middle-aged or skinny, sporting a horrid moustache _and _middle-aged men.

And where was he from? She was sure she had seen all the peasants in town before, maybe not every little unweaned baby there was, but Arendelle was small.

She'd remember if she had seen a tall, slim and yet good looking boy, just slightly younger than she was. And that hair-what young person had such a shock of white hair? He was a boy that was barefooted, but his feet looked about as clean as hers were; definitely cleaner than the large majority of the peasants. How could he have walked into the chapel without getting them all dusty anyway?

She locks her gaze with the boy, and as he catches her staring at him, his eyes betray a faint look of surprise. She's about to speak when someone taps her lightly on the shoulder.

"Your majesty, Kristoff Bjorgman is going to come in soon," Pastor Sloss says gently in that deep voice of his. "Olaf, would you go to Princess Anna now? She wishes to have you to walk her down the aisle, do well to remember that and not leave her now."

Elsa tears her gaze away from that peculiar boy. "Yes, Pastor Sloss. I'll be down now. Come on Olaf, let's go. You don't want to keep Anna waiting, do you?"

"Oops, Sorry!" Olaf casts a glance at the boy, and she notices that he suddenly looked slightly lost and the confusion is now evident on his face. Why wasn't Pastor Sloss asking him to downstairs though? Usually, no one but the choir was permitted to remain on the second floor…

"I'll go to Anna now!" Olaf scurried down the icy steps and moved as fast as he could towards Anna's waiting room at the back of the church. By now, the people had started their susurration once more.

Elsa casts one last curious glance at the boy. _Later_, she tells herself. She could work out her puzzle later. For now, Anna came first.

* * *

Jack held his breath all the time he caught her studying him. Well, at least, he thinks that she was looking at him. He even looked behind him after the pastor ushered her downstairs just to check if there was a really interesting view behind his back. Unless she somehow found the sight of a window letting in sunlight extremely fascinating-she could see him.

And somehow, he was hugely unnerved by it.

What were you supposed to think really when you see a girl, no, a woman, that he hadn't seen for over a century and a half, standing in front of him and breathing the same air as he was? It was as if someone sucker-punched him, knocking out all his breath the moment his eyes fell on her.

His memory screamed at him that she was dead, that her country had fallen to a storm of fire and water. Even if he had seen the physical evidence that Arendelle was still intact as it was, and heard the news that it was _Anna_ who was getting married, not to Hans but Kristoff, the sight of Elsa had almost driven him into a panic.

The last time he was here, Elsa was but a little girl, barely seven as it was. Over a hundred years later, he reappears in the same place and the girl has blossomed into a fairly striking lady. There's no use denying that she was pretty.

Ugh, headache.

Last April, while he was on a break from the rampages of spreading ice, snow or fun, he had wandered into the hot and humid Southeast Asia. He hadn't ever known the place to be filled with all sorts of critters and crawlers the last time he was there; then again, he had only spent a short time in that particular region of the world the last time he was there.

Taking a holiday in Southeast Asia wasn't his idea of fun, but admittedly, the Sahara Desert was leagues worse than the prospect of getting sweaty. He never got sweaty (and gross) of course. Still. The jungles were filled to the brim with all sorts of vegetations and six-footed tiny little things, green light, tall canopies (that looked like a green roofs), more foliage, lianas, shrubs… The Rafflesia was especially scary. If you ask him, he'd take a pine forest any day. Even if a rainforest was filled with the most fascinating creatures yet undiscovered to humankind, frigid places were more of his taste.

Then he walked into the human enclaves. He tried orphanages, cinemas, schools, zoos, botanical gardens, amusement parks, shopping centres… But not one child could see him even if certain children in the Northern Hemisphere could. He supposes he's at fault for that though, the poor Equatorial area has never seen snow. Human cities were more or less the same to him, just that he thinks that a Southeast Asian counterpart had more moss growing in drains than say, Ottawa.

Well, he didn't choose that prime location of holidaying for nothing. Sneaking into Tooth's palace undetected was a huge pain in the neck; he might as well enjoy the commodities its surrounding lands had to offer.

Why Tooth's palace? He had gone to the Scandinavian countries in March and had remembered Arendelle's fate, his curiosity being pivotal, driving him to want to know more about Arendelle's little Doomsday(s). After inspecting row after row of teeth, he had found a child tooth-Stig Mathisen's tooth.

The child's memories were of hunger, cold, terror. He didn't know fun. He knew that his father had been swept out to sea, his mother crying for days on end. The child didn't have an ounce of happy memories to offer Jack, only giving him the despair and hopelessness he felt-something that was radiated by all his friends. In the last days of Arendelle, everyone looked downcast, some worried. They were all so painfully thin.

Looking at the pretty queen's face had reminded him of all the misery the people experienced in her unfortunate absence. Elsa didn't even live particularly long, having died before 1885 (according to Stig's memories that depicted a life during the power struggles of the two princes and the subsequent aftermath). Was that why he was sent back, so he could tell Elsa _not_ to die or something?

Thankfully, his expression betrayed none of these thoughts to her. She won't have to know of the downfall of all her people. Of course she has no need to. It hadn't happened anyway.

If somehow, he has to live out the late half of the 19th century and the 20th century once more, he'd probably be able to find a way not to let Arendelle befall such a tragedy. Although, the gorgeous place might be turned into a military base for the World Wars, or if it survived all the bloodbaths (though thankfully, most of them did not occur in Norway), it'd become another historic site. Maybe Arendelle's castle would be compared to the Neuschwanstein Castle.

But he didn't even _like _the early 20th century. The humans got so busy with all their wars it made Russia's snow smell terrible for an entire year, the pure beauty of the snow getting corrupted with the fluid of coppery odours. Then people got so gloomy that it wasn't fun for a long time. He usually liked games, but he did not like the way the boys chased after little girls and screamed 'Frau!' during the post-war period.

He shut those thoughts away. This was a wedding and the happy couple might not like it if they knew one of their guests (even if uninvited, but he supposes that it was a free-for-all sort of wedding considering the entire town was crammed into the chapel, save for the few who had to remain on the bridge outside) was thinking of thoughts so utterly melancholic.

Though he knows that no one could see him as it is, he gives a huge vivacious grin and hopes onto the wooden railing and looks down to watch the scene playing below him. He watches as the Princess Anna smiles widely from ear to ear, her powdered cheeks flushing pink as she struggles not to turn away. She's holding a bouquet of flowers and the little Olaf tottering in after her as he raised his stick-arms in the air, as if waving to his standing audience.

There was an absurd lack of music. Huh. He has to get this on some feedback form and complain about it. Didn't traditional Norwegians play some guitar-like thing as they got married? He watches in amusement as everyone attempts to remain solemn with Olaf bouncing around joyously as he is.

* * *

Anna's smile was reflecting Elsa's own-it was almost painful, smiling this widely. Her sister is walking down the aisle as Kristoff fidgeted nervously beside her. Poor boy. His face was flushed, as Anna's was, but more obviously than hers, considering his blush wasn't hidden by a thick layer of white powder.

She didn't know why they had insisted on fluffing Anna up in so much powder-she was fine as she was! Why hide her freckles when Kristoff held on to the belief that they were cute?_ 'Well, my queen, Princess Anna is adopting the look of a Victorian in her wedding, she should be all lovely and blushing, but the powder has to cover it_...' What utter rubbish, but neither she nor Anna wanted to fight that battle so they gave in.

Olaf arrives a few seconds before Anna does-her having this little girl with red hair trailing behind her as a bridesmaid. How many little girls had red hair in Arendelle anyway? She's heard from Repunzel that her Germany didn't have so many red-heads. They had way more blondes in comparison.

"Queen Elsa," Olaf spouts happily as he bows. She has to hide a smirk at Olaf trying to play formal. Her accidental error in creating Olaf was really something she didn't have any regrets over. "May I present my lovely-" He gives a dramatic pause, "Anna!"

The crowd gives a short burst of cheers and whoops, but the moment Pastor Sloss clears his throat, they stop immediately.

Elsa looks at Pastor Sloss and nods. He cleared his throat again and speaks, "My dear friends, we have come together in the presence of God—" Elsa tries not to roll her eyes, "to witness the marriage of Kristoff Bjorgman and Princess Anna of Arendelle as they give themselves to each other on this very day."

"We remember that at Cana, in Galilee, our Lord Jesus Christ made the wedding feast a sign of God's reign of love… Let us enter into this celebration confident that, through the Holy Ghost, Christ is present with us now, and we pray that this couple will be blessed by God for the rest of their lives…"

Elsa just tunes out the rest of the Pastor's speech. She's jolted back to attention when she feels ice creep up her back. She almost yelped in shock at the sudden cold-surely she hadn't made the ice appear? Okay, she shouldn't panic. Panicking would be the equivalent of freaking out and letting her magic play like a wildfire, ruining the sanctity of this _chapel_ and of course, ruining Anna's wedding.

Anna and Kristoff were saying something related to vows, but of course, Elsa doesn't listen either. She's too busy trying to keep her attention on _not_ freaking out. Ice, oh ice. She only regains her composure when she's told to officiate the marriage. As queen and the sister of Anna, she takes the golden sceptre and the sphere she used on her coronation day and raises it.

"I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, declare the marriage between Princess Anna and Kristoff Bjorgman valid and true. Henceforth, Kristoff Bjorgman shall be known as Prince Kristoff Bjorgman of Arendelle, the couple shall be next in line to the throne, should any ill fate befall me before I have any heirs. Now, we shall celebrate the marriage of the new Prince and Princess!"

The thought of her having any heirs made her feel oddly repulsed. Children were scary. Having a child was positively worse. But she couldn't help but grin at sight of Anna and Kristoff going even redder than before. She doubts that both of them were strangers to the idea of the procedure, though, heaven forbid that Anna actually knows that stages of it too intimately. There was a reason that she has to wear white, to represent her lovely little 'innocence'.

Everyone cheered riotously and she could see flowers being thrown at Anna and Kristoff, a few of them actually reaching them. Flowers simply fell to the ground so very easily. Anna tries another of those English customs and throws the bouquet-and it lands in the arms of a girl around their age. She looked familiar, probably one of the maids in the castle.

After that, the people began to leave the room as they chatted boisterously and laughed loudly. The party has to get started! Elsa thinks that if they are in such a state now, who'd know how crazy everything would be after the people have downed their Akvakit?

Elsa turns to Kristoff and Anna, "Congratulations Anna," She kissed her sister lightly on the cheek and they both giggle. "Your cheek's so warm!" She turns to Kristoff and warned, "If you so much as hurt my sister, you'd have me come after you! I'd make you regret that you've ever been raised by the Trolls. I'll go after Sven!"

"What, you'd go after Sven? Nah, I wouldn't care-I'm as heartless as it is," Kristoff replied jokingly, but nervously. He raised his hands in surrender as her glare intensifies. "Woah, just kidding. You know, I'd never do anything to hurt Anna." He turns to the sister in question and says, "You know, I really wouldn't. I'd even go to the ends of the world if you wanted something from there-though I can't really imagine what you might need from the ends of the world."

Anna smiles. Elsa thinks that she loved to see Anna smile-it lit up everything around her. Although, the googly eyes that she's making were faintly nauseating. "Don't worry, you wouldn't ever have to do that. You're just fine as it is, with Sven. Just bring me sledding around sometime soon, and _never_ ever leave me in the castle alone with Elsa if you can help it."

"Hey!" Elsa protests. "What did I do?"

Anna pouts. "Well, you've been so busy with state matters recently, organizing the trade affairs as you do… I just feel that you've not been spending much time with me. And I know you don't really like doing these things."

That's true, Elsa reflected guiltily. "Looks like I'm guilty as charged then. Sorry Anna."

"She's right though-you should spend some time having fun."

"Fun? Where have I got the time to go sledding? What if I get into an accident and I leave you two to the boring throne? Do you _really _want it that way? No? But I'll try to spend more time with you guys, promise. "

"Hey, guys! Are we forgetting something?"

"You?" Anna suggested cheekily and she picks Olaf up.

Olaf raised his thin brows. "Er, no! We need to go to the _party_! I like summer parties, can we go there now?"

"You're probably the luckiest snowman on earth, I swear," Kristoff muttered and Anna elbowed him.

"He's right though! We need to get to the reception. You must be hungry right?"

"Of course I'm hungry! I could eat something as big as Sven!"

"You don't eat venison," Anna points out.

"It was just a comparison!"

"Fighting already?" Elsa quirks a smile and she arches a single brow. "Shoo, go off to your party first; tell everybody that you all can start eating. I'll be along soon."

"But—"

"I'll be along soon," Elsa assures firmly. "I'm can't miss all the fun bits at my sister's wedding, right? What kind of sister-or person for that matter, would I be?"

Anna frowned. "Alright then. Come by soon!"

"I will. Now run along."

Anna casts one last doubtful glance at her but shrugs. "Come on Olaf, come on Kristoff, race you!" She places Olaf down as she runs down the aisle towards the exit. It's an entire four seconds before any of the three could process the fact that Anna has run out of the chapel.

"Hey, hold up!" Olaf cried as Kristoff sprinted after Anna.

"Don't fall down in that dress!" Kristoff calls out.

"You got left at the altar, huh Kristoff," Elsa chuckles to herself before turning around to face the second floor, her face all composed. "You there-the one who's risking his neck perching on the railing like that-who are you?"

The white haired boy blinked.

"Are you talking to me?"

"I'm not talking to a bird perched on a railing, am I? Answer the question."

He blinks again and his eyes widen further. "Umm…"

"Speak!"

He leaps down and she almost screamed. He lands lightly and she thinks she might faint.

"Hello…umm, Queen Elsa. My name is Jack."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen and this shall apply to the rest of the fic. I might want to type this hilarious part again though.**

**A/N: Hi guys! A chapter longer than my usual, and I've not been nitpicking my grammar. But Merry Christmas! Tell me what you think of this, pretty please? I'm not sure if I'd update before the New Year. Holiday Homework is still on the list (And school starts on January the second, like. hallelujah. oh joy)**

* * *

So she could see him, and she's talking to him-actually talking to him. Drat, why didn't he talk to her the last time he was here? Maybe he could've saved himself over a hundred years of not talking to a human.

"Hello…umm, Queen Elsa. My name is Jack," He manages to barely stutter out. His voice comes out a little hoarse and the words are jumbled, but she manages to catch his name nonetheless.

He speaks in a sort of magical all-tongue, he speaking English but her catching the words in her native Nordic tongue, maybe. Or she might be hearing him speak in English-if the other party understood the language just fine, it'd sound like English. The magical language worked that way-even if it wasn't their first language, if the spoken tongue is understood however, the magic didn't need to change the words to sound like their native language.

"You're not from here," She states. It wasn't a question.

"The English people say that you could win a price. Would a quid do?" He grinned at her as he straightens himself, dusting off the imaginary specks of dust on him. Dust never settled on him anymore. Ah, the perks of being a Guardian-not needing to learn more languages and not getting dirty. The Man in the Moon knows why Tooth bothered to learn all those languages.

"No, you are not English either. The English speak their English with a more… clipped accent," She replied with a frown. She looked coldly at him. "I suppose you should tell the truth? You're in Arendelle, it's my land. You are defenceless here."

He twirled his stick around in his left hand. "Hmm, I guess I should." He is feigning nonchalance, really. She spoke English with a slight lilt, the way North Germanic peoples speak their English. If it came back to him in the magical all-tongue, its accent would be his accent. He didn't know she spoke English; then again, he didn't know much.

The first time he came here, he was still rather lost. He broke out of the ice, seen and heard the moon all in the very early 1800s. He had spent the next few decades traversing all paths, travelling all around the Northern and Southern hemispheres. Okay, maybe he wasn't just _lost_, he was confused. Coming halfway across the world from Burgess by skimming across the waters of the Pacific Ocean might prove that.

He had first wandered into Arendelle when Elsa was four, and painted her window with his ice for the first time; he hadn't ever done that for anyone else. To see her face light in wonder and delight brought a grin to his face, and he came to her window ever so often to cheer her up. He'd only come to see her, give cheer to the girl who could conjure ice and snow-a girl who thought it was a curse.

Come to think of it, she was more powerful with her ice magic that he was if you factor in the precursor for creating the very things synonymous with winter. All she needed were her hands, and the magic would flow out of her. On the other hand, he needed his trusty, good old staff that could most thankfully be repaired as and when needed.

"Well, are you going to answer? Why lie about your name-Jack's a common English name, do not think that I don't know that." He broke out of his thoughts, but she seemed to hesitate before asking the second question. "How did you jump from the second floor?"

He scratched his head. "Me? My name _is_ Jack; I'm not lying about that. But I guess I'm sorry for joking that I was English. I'm an American. I don't really want to be an Englishman; I know some really shady characters there." Oh, all the awards should go to him, _terrific_ pun. Pitch Black would be thrilled, Jack, a Guardian, mentioning him? How delightful.

"Your second question? Ehh, I trained in a circus once, had been an acrobat," He lied slightly uneasily, but he offered her a winsome smile. Hopefully, she'd buy it.

And she did. Her eyes lit up as she spoke. "Circus? Ohh, have you ever worked with lions?"

Someone thank whoever motivated North to drag him to a Russian circus. "Nope, sorry. Besides, it's just a little cruel to make a lion jump through hoops of fire, don't you think? Imagine how many times he could've gotten burned during his training…"

Her eyes widened. "I never thought of that," She remarked thoughtfully. "I guess I don't really know much about the outside world, being… raised in the palace and all that. That's that then-I'd not let a travelling circus into Arendelle." Then her eyes suddenly flashed and a vexed expression crossed her face. "Dear me, I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm the Queen of Arendelle, Queen Elsa. But since you are a lowly circus born boy, I suppose I'd let you call me Elsa. Just Elsa."

Jack broke into a grin. "A lowly circus boy at your service, Elsa." He bowed slightly, a little mockingly. But he feels a slight twinge of guilt at his lies-she was a nicer queen than he'd expect. He's heard that royalty could be scheming, devious and downright rotten. Bizarre situation or not, she deserved the truth.

"Are you going to come to the party? American boy or not, you should come for it. I promise that you won't be left out."

He raised his eyebrow, still mockingly. "My lovely queen won't mind if I sully her presence with my lowly rank in life? Oh, how absolutely gracious of you!"

"If I was English, I'd call you a right prat. Come on, little Jack. We'd make some fun for you."

Oh, you have no idea. And Elsa, aren't you supposed to be the boring one here?

"But you've got to tell me what it's like out there, though," Elsa continues.

They begin to walk out of the chapel as they talk.

"Huh, what do you mean?" He asks innocently.

"You're a right little imp-such a hellion, you. Little scullion."

"Is there a bar of soap around here? The queen insulting a poor little former circus boy with her choice words?" She glared at him and he laughed. "I get what you mean. The world? I could spin tales for you, or tell the truth. Are you going to be able to tell the difference?"

"Me, tell the difference? Well, even if you told me that people in America rode around on metal scraps and could fly around the world, I'd probably still believe you. But you better not tell me Santa Claus exists because St. Nicholas is long dead."

North would contest that, but he didn't really want to offend her, running at the expense of being ossified (with ice that is). And she didn't know how she hit the bull's-eye with that statement. Americans did travel around in cars and planes. But that was a thing in the _future_, damn.

He was glad she was easy to talk to-he never imagined staging a conversation with an actual adult human. None of them ever saw him anyway. And he hadn't had any interest in talking to those boring people anyhow. But her? After getting past the really brief initial phase of threats, she grinned, talked freely and laughed. Almost like how a child would talk. Okay, maybe she was a boring person to her sister, but she did have her merits. And he'd be the judge on whether she knew how to have fun for himself.

"I'll tell you that the Spanish let bulls charge at them as they wave a red cloth around."

"I heard that in passing!" She squealed. "Oh, they risk their lives-that's rather scary really, isn't it? Tell me more about such a thing, please."

* * *

She knows she should be more cautious and careful around this Jack-a niggling thought warns her that he was not all as he appeared to be, but she pushes it away the moment he mentions that he's an American from a circus. A circus! To think that he's probably travelled all over the world-a circus boy!

Jack tossed his stick in front of him.

"Well," He grinned at her. "The Spanish take these capes-" He mimes the action, leaping backwards onto the stone wall and holding his hands up, as if he's waving a piece of cloth around. "These red capes! And they wave the cape around near a bull, then the bull charges at them!" His eyes widen in mock fear. "When the bull is just about to get them-the horns just inches away as the crowd cheers and roars, the bullfighter leaps away!" He jumps off the wall and lands beside her.

"The bull would stagger, shocked that the man isn't gored on his horns…"

"Gross!" She wrinkled her nose.

"Well, that's the truth. Anyway, the crowd is crazy by now, they'd be hollering for all it's worth. This is the _Corrida de toros_…"

"But bulls are peaceful creatures, usually. Why would it try to hurt the bullfighter?"

He scratched his head before leaning down to pick his stick off the ground. "Oh, right. That little detail. Sorry, I prefer what happens after the bullfighter tries provoking the bulls. Anyway, the bull gets offended when the red cape is waved in front of him. Don't ask me why, I'm no bull expert. I'm a tumbling, cartwheel, tight-rope expert, remember?" He grinned cheekily at her. "Would you fancy a race to your party?"

"Me, race you to a party?" She eyed him for a moment before looking him up and down. "Rather not. Your legs are too long for me. And besides, my dress is too long for racing on these uneven clay tiles. I'd probably trip and break a leg or two, or maybe I'd snag my dress on something and it'd rip. Wouldn't want that, would we?"

He twirls his stick around and sighs dramatically. "Well, if you say so. Since we aren't gonna race, what else do you want to know about?"

"Have you been to London?"

"London? Of course!" He shook his head at her as he sighed again. "My queen, London is a place everyone's been to, I mean, it's the centre of today's trade! America is currently busy with its War Between the States-the Yankees and the Southerners are too busy fighting in the New World for any trade or circus to go there. You know, I came to Europe because of that war. No jobs when they're fighting you see." He gave her a strange expression, one she could almost swear was _guilt_, but she brushed it off.

"Mm, but London's no fun at the moment. Not unless you're rich and famous of course. Then again, nothing's any fun if you aren't rich. I've seen the English Queen-she's fat and not at all pretty, unlike you." He winked at her and she turned slightly pink. Were all Americans such charmers, or was Jack out of the norm? She didn't know.

"London-I'm sure you've heard it's a pretty dreary place; all smog and smoke, not a good place for fresh air and breathing if you ask me. Many of the poor kids are chimney sweeps, with no money to buy any toys. But they did, I mean, they do know how to have fun. I've seen them play in the puddles or dance to a musician who played a mechanical violin-he's called the hurdy-gurdy man. If they were lucky, when they get home they'd sing to the fiddle or pipe… or something like that."

"What do you mean 'lucky'?" She questioned.

He shrugged. "If they had parents who were in fit conditions to sing with them, I guess. If they weren't dead or drunk. Childbirth's a tricky business for the poor," He did a somersault in front of her and any doubts of him not being an acrobat simply vanished into thin air. He was such a natural at these turns!

She changes the topic. "What about the London rich?" Their poor led such morbid lives.

In Arendelle, the people were kept much happier, thankfully. She's glad that all her efforts at managing the town paid off. Why was she even a _Queen_ anyway? It wasn't as if her Kingdom was particularly large. Her kingdom wasn't even the size of London, for heaven's sake! Queen Victoria managed a far larger empire than she did-so maybe she had the right to turn a blind eye to faults in certain parts of the running of the English realm. What single monarch had the time to look into every nook and cranny there was? Besides, the Victorians did have their good, didn't they?

She knows little about the world all the way to the west; she's been too preoccupied with bringing more trade to Arendelle ever since she scared off a couple three years ago (and that she cut off Weaselton's trade).

He obliges, and tells her about the Victorian rich after warning her that he wasn't rich himself, so he didn't have knowledge of the inner workings of their pastimes. He says that the rich sang around pianos, instead of fiddles and pipes. The children had their nannies, and after whatever classes they had with the governess, they'd paint or read. Sometimes, if the London weather held, they'd go to a zoo or park. She found the concept of a zoo fascinating-one could look at an animal from Africa in London? But at the same time, she found it saddening that the noble animals were caged and locked up. They'd never know their true purpose, and they'd definitely not know the joys of freedom.

"But how could they stand to keep such majestic creatures in a cage? How could a lion stand to be in a cage?"

"We circuses keep lions in cages too," He said dryly. "I don't suppose my lions are very happy about it either. "Us circuses have the filthiest cages ever. Even the zoo seems to be a paradise in comparison."

She gave him an accusing look. "Then why don't you do anything about the cages?"

He shrugged. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't-the circus master controls everything, and by everything I do mean everything. Didn't you get the memo? I'm the lowly circus acrobat boy-I don't have any say in anything. If I was the circus master I'd buy bigger cages even if it taxes on the budgets; circuses don't really earn much, if you think about it."

"Memo?"

He looked as if he'd smack himself. "Sorry, I forgot; American saying there. Well, what I'm saying is that 'well, don't you understand'?" He uses his fingers to make air quotes.

"Ah…" She nods. "What happened to the circus you were from anyway? I don't think a _lowly_ boy like yourself could simply choose to leave and go on some holiday or another."

He laughed. "How sharp of you. Did I forget this too? I ran away."

"Naughty little thing, you," She giggles and smacked his arm lightly. Was it just her, or did he feel warm to the touch? But, no one around felt warm to her; they all felt uncomfortably hot. That was why she wasn't a person for hugging.

"I'd say you were a minx," He chuckled lightly. "But you aren't that bold. And you won't be flirting with me, of all people."

"Huh." She does think that her face was a little pink though. Would she actually flirt with him? Was she? She could wring her head right there and then, but she doesn't think that it'd be appropriate. Does she even know what _flirting_ was?

Oh right, she did. She's witnessed too many of those playful moments Anna and Kristoff shared together, too many moments where she suspected that she might hurl her breakfast, lunch or dinner. The two were at it too often. Thank the God she didn't believe in that they got married. Hopefully, they'd stop going moony-eyed at each other as often as they did now. At the rate they had gone, she didn't think she'd want any suitors at all. She thinks that she could just continue rejecting the endless gift bringing envoys.

"And now, my queen, I shall take my leave. I might just see you around!" He grinned at her, but it was almost as if he was holding back his laughter at her discomfort.

Jack darted away, picking through the carefully before she lost sight of him. She found herself surrounded by a large crowd of people, and feeling vaguely annoyed at the giggles a gaggle of girls made at her side. Would any of the coquettes try to flirt with Jack? She wonders idly.

"Queen Elsa, there you are!" Helge booms from the side and she starts. "Anna was thinking that maybe you would not come!"

"Oh no, I'd definitely be here," Elsa smiles at the woman and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Helge already smelt like Akvavit, and it had barely been fifteen minutes since the start of the celebrations!

Did Jack speak anything Nordic? She thinks suddenly. If he didn't, he was probably not going to have any fun at the party. Or maybe he'd get on just fine with any girl he could find. Glib tongue or not, his good looks would most likely snag him a pretty girl around here. Did she really just think that he looked handsome? _There's no saying that he isn't_, a voice in her head tells her. That's true. She almost huffs. Should she even care? But he was technically a guest in her town; she shouldn't let him go off alone…

"…and Princess Anna, here is your sister, I'll be off now! More food to serve!" Ah, that was why she was drinking early. She had to serve more food and she had been trying her best to get drunk via her imbibing.

Anna's warm hug wrapped around her. "Elsa! Could you make a ice rink? I would like it if you could let us skate."

* * *

Jack stays out of sight after he leaves Elsa. It wouldn't do to let her see that everyone passed through him or that they couldn't even see him. Best case scenario? She'd think he was a ghost.

He felt terrible at telling her all those untruths. Sure, he had been to Spain and London during the 1800s, but lying and telling her that he was a runaway circus boy made him feel like the worst person on Earth. Oh, why was he sent back to this particular time, where no one knew what 'memo' meant?

And Elsa seemed so nice, though a little ignorant about the world. Aren't most monarchs supposed to know more about London? If he didn't get his history wrong, London _was_ the busiest place in Europe then.

The German Empire wasn't yet established; Germany's Berlin was still insignificant in compared to the bustling, grey-coloured London, wasn't it? Was Berlin even the capital of the German Empire yet? He hasn't ever studied for a history test-he doesn't know. He's never really bothered with trying to understand these trifling human politics anyway. They changed so much that he couldn't bother; fluctuating more than the undulations of the ocean waves like it did.

Jack sighed. His earlier headache began to nag at him again. Oh well, maybe a nap was in place. He hops into a barrel-where Elsa wouldn't ever check, maybe, if she even wanted to look for him that is.

He shuts his eyes moments after an ice-rink appears in front of him, the ice covering the entire courtyard ground as the people exclaim in their delight. Ice begins to cover the many surfaces around the place around him-ice sculptures in the shapes of swans and reindeer (weird combination Elsa) growing on the outer surface of the barrel he was in.

So much for his original idea with the ice rink. He yawned tiredly. This time business was tiring. And he was barely two hours into the 19th century. Was he supposed to stay awake? Nah… there's nothing for him to do now… Sleep…

* * *

"Has anyone seen Jack?" Tooth asked worriedly as she flittered into the room in North's Workshop. "I can't find him anywhere!"

"I do not see Jack," North said as he heaved a huge sigh. "I need Jack to help me with this!" He waved his large arm around the room filled with little knickknacks.

There were all kinds of presents in the room, from Matryoshka dolls, train sets and glass chess sets to Thor figurines and remote-controlled helicopter toys. The Yetis were scrambling around as they picked up the toys and placed them and carefully placed them in appropriately sized boxes. Then they'd wrap the boxes with a shiny, coloured foil before tacking or tying a ribbon onto the box.

"He says that he helps me pack!"

"Well, ain't any of us have seen Mr. Frosty," Bunny said growlingly. But beneath all that prickly fur, he was worried. Jack hadn't been seen for a few days now-it wasn't like him to vanish without a trace, especially during winter. Three days to the Winter Solstice and he was nowhere in sight.

Jamie Bennett had been dead worried the last time Tooth visited him. He had been frantic, telling her that Jack had promised to be at his window when he woke up. Two days after that, Jack still hadn't made an appearance and he was worried that something bad might have befallen Jack.

North gave another of his huge sighs. "I cannot do anything now for Jack; Christmas is coming. Tooth, Bunny, Sandy, go look for Jack."

"Roger that," Bunny nodded, saluting before he hopped into a hole and disappeared.

"Roger that too," Tooth chimed.

A tick sign appeared above the Sandman's head, as well as a couple of question marks. But he and Tooth left North to his toys and Christmas preparations.

North stared out of the window and watches the snowdrift. "Oh, Jack, where are you?"

A Yeti made an indiscernible noise as it places a dragon plush toy into a box, but North nods in agreement. "I wish I knows too."

* * *

"Hey Jack, what are you doing in a barrel?" A childish, loud voice sounded at his ear and he groaned.

"Mm, five more minutes… Jamie..."

"Jack!" Through the haze of sleep, he barely recognizes the voice as Olaf's.

"What?" He snapped as he rubbed his eyes free of the grit. He sees Olaf's big eye through a small hole of the barrel and he sits up in the cramped space. His back felt sore. Remind him not to sleep in a barrel, else have a back that does feel 300 years old.

"Hey, Jack!" Olaf sounded hurt.

"Sorry," Jack proceeded to stand up to stretch. The sky was dark now. How long had he been asleep? Summer-the sun set late… so… Had he been asleep for more than eight hours now? He's shocked at that-usually, he'd only sleep for an hour and he's fit to go fly over the Atlantic. "I must've fallen asleep."

"Yeah, you did! You missed most of the party!" Olaf exclaimed. "I was looking for you!"

"Sorry," Jack apologizes again as he climbs out of the barrel. He turned his head to the left and right and hears two satisfying cracks. Ah. That sure did the trick.

"And I was going to introduce you to everyone…" Olaf looked away. "You know, everyone would be so thrilled to meet you!"

Jack looked at Olaf wearily. "Well, Olaf. Could you do me a favour?"

"Oh, what? I think I might just do anything for you Jack! You're the _coolest_!" Olaf thrilled and Jack rolled his eyes. "But you really are the coolest, with your pretty snow and ice…"

Jack let out a chuckle. "Thanks Olaf. But I've got something to ask of you." Olaf widens his eyes hopefully. Wow, he's acquired himself a fan, really? "Don't tell Elsa I'm Jack Frost. Could you do that?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because I told her that I was a circus boy. Do you know what that is?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know! I didn't want her to know I was Jack Frost! Can you imagine her reaction if I told her I was Jack Frost? People think I'm an expression to use in a bad situation!"

"I don't know. Elsa isn't like that." Jack's grateful that Olaf didn't spout another question that involved a 'why'. Jack wasn't a kindergarten teacher after all, and Jamie was a genius of a kid. "But you _lied_ to her." Olaf says the sentence in a hushed tone, as if it was the greatest sin ever.

"Well, I had to…" Jack gives a shoddy excuse. "I mean, I don't really want to lose a friend before I make one, you know?"

Olaf nods. "Maybe. Suit yourself then. Look, the fireworks are coming out!" Jack dusts himself.

"They are," Jack agreed, fascinated. He's seen his fair share of fireworks-they date back even to American Revolutionary War, but he hadn't expected a small Norwegian town to be able to afford such pyrotechnics.

Jack and Olaf held a breath as the first firework soared into the air and exploded in a blast of orange. The next followed as a white. The people were 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing' at the pretty spectacle before them.

The next few were those that were 'specially ordered from Italy' as Olaf supplied-a statement he had heard someone saying while Jack was sleeping. These 'special' Italian fireworks were coloured purple, blue, green and red, yellow. If only the purple could be distinguished into violet and indigo, they'd have all the colours of the rainbow. But no matter; it still disarmed the people all the same.

There was a faint sound of hysteria at the far edges of the party, but no one seemed to pay it any mind. They were probably dismissing it as some drunken outburst. Jack thinks that they might be right-the air smelled so heavy of drink that it seemed as if the ground had been doused with a swimming pool's worth of Akvavit.

"There you are!" Jack spun around to see Elsa walking towards them. She was dressed slightly differently now-her dark dress marginally shorter than before. It looked like the same dress though, and its hem was torn.

"Elsa," He inclined his head towards her. "Hello."

Olaf leapt to attention. "Hey Elsa!" He waved at her.

"So, you've met Olaf?" She smiles congenially.

"Yep, Olaf's a pretty nice guy."

"Yep, I'm a nice snowman! Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, you've met Jack already?"

"Yes, I have," Elsa cocks her head to the side. "Is there anything about him that I should know?"

"Ohh, nothing, nothing at all!" Olaf almost shouted, but his voice was drowned by the noise of another firework exploding. "I just want you to know that Jack is a very, very nice person, right Jack?"

Olaf's sincerity was palpable, but to Jack, it was a little awkward. Traces of a lie were evident to him, but it seems that Elsa was going to dismiss it as she nods at Olaf's statement.

"Right, I'm a _really_ nice person. Say, Elsa. Where did you get all those fireworks from? I mean, I've seen these things before, but aren't they expensive?"

Elsa looked at him as she replied. "Well, they are. Why, each of them probably costs more than what an average fisherman could earn in a year! But it's worth it seeing the smile they could put on everyone's faces. All the same, I got them for Anna. She's always wanted to see these fireworks ever since we were children-to see light illuminating the dark skies. She told me that she felt less lonely when she could see the stars at night."

A silence descends on them as they continue watching the last of the fireworks fizzle out, to the feeble protests of the people. Jack decides that the silence wasn't an awkward one, but Olaf seemed to be bursting to say something.

The hysteria at the side of the crowd only grew louder though. Faint shouts, and yells.

"Has anyone seen my daughter?"

"My son?"

"Oh shut it, Mathisen."

"Yeah, shut up Alf."

"Shut it Inger."

Jack looked at Elsa. "Do you think that something's happening there?"

Elsa shook her head. "I do not know. The people came sometimes joke around too much, bring a joke too far. Children often wander away from their parents. I wouldn't worry too much about these things, not yet. I mean, where could they have gone?"

"They could've fallen into the water," Jack points out.

"I've frozen the sea for now. Safety precautions."

"But couldn't the children have walked away on the ice?"

"I would know if someone steps on it-" Then her eyes widen. "There might be someone on the ice right now. But… it's moving too quickly!"

A child, of around ten to twelve years of age, suddenly runs up to them, her blonde pigtails flying behind her. Tears were running down her face. "A wolf, it's come and taken Johan! Queen Elsa, please. You've got to believe me!" She gave a terrified wail. "I don't know what to do! He's my little brother and papa would be so mad if Johan's disappeared-there'd be no one to fish with him... No father would want a daughter like me if they could have a son…"

Jack knew he shouldn't say anything. If he did, Elsa would know that the girl couldn't see, hear or touch him. A feeling of unease crept up his spine. No child as old as she was would bother spinning tales to a queen. It'd be too nerve-wrecking to even approach a queen, much less allow themselves to be humiliated by telling false stories.

Elsa seems to pick up the girl's fear, and decides that she wasn't lying. She spoke seriously and firmly, with her natural regal authority. "Now, come down and tell me your name. You could do that, right?"

The girl snivels gratefully. "My name is Alfhild Mathisen."

"Okay, good. So what happened?" Olaf looks on curiously from the side, but Jack could see that even the snowman appeared to be scared.

Alfhild Mathisen gave a sniff. Slightly belatedly, he realizes with a slight start that Alfhild Mathisen would be related to the child Stig Mathisen, from whom he retrieved the memories of Arendelle from-maybe an aunt or something. This really wasn't his best day.

"Well, I was minding Johan. They were playing by the water, you know, with Karla. He's really taken with Karla Jespersen, likes her a lot. You made the water ice you know, so we were skating around. It was fun. Since it got dark, I told Johan and Karla that we should be getting back to the party-papa and momma might get worried if we disappeared for too long. Then this huge wolf appears!" Her voice trembled as she gave the exclamation, her hands waving about, as if to try to show the size of the wolf. "It… it grabs Johan and Karla and it vanishes into the dark…"

She descends into another fresh round of tears. Elsa waited patiently for her to stop crying. "I don't know what to do…"

"Alright, how did the wolf look like?"

Jack doesn't know how a wolf would manage to carry two children away, even if they were small.

"Very big," She first says and begins to gesticulate again. "It's taller than I am, big! Very, very, very big. It's mostly black, with huge teeth!" Alfhild points at her teeth. So, it's got big canines. "It's got a tail, but it walks like a human…"

Howls were heard in a distance. It wasn't any secret that wolves infested the woods around the town, but they never ventured into the human populace. They only lurked about in the outskirts of it, only dragging a human down for the kill in the coldest depths of a hungry winter.

Elsa frowned as she pointed out that wolves didn't come into Arendelle, ever. "Are you sure that it's a wolf?"

"Yeah."

Elsa looked troubled as she turned to Jack and Olaf. Jack was sure his eyes looked pretty much like Olaf's, wide and slightly fearful. While Olaf was probably scared of the wolves, Jack was scared that Elsa might just find out that he was Jack Frost, not Jack the circus boy and then realize that he had been lying to her. Oh, why did he lie? Lying was such trouble if you had to keep it up.

Thankfully, Alfhild speaks first. "May… may I be dismissed? I might be wrong-maybe. I'll go to the ice to look for Karla and Johan…"

"No, that's too dangerous. You go back to your parents and tell them that Queen Elsa doesn't want you punished, and that's a direct order. Go on now."

Jack marvels at her ingenuity. Okay, maybe this didn't tell him that she was an Einstein-level genius, but the clockwork in her head functioned just fine; the cobwebs hadn't taken root in there.

Alfhild runs off. While she still looked slightly nervous, she didn't look terrified at the prospect of confronting her parents anymore.

"So, Jack. Have you ever encountered a huge black beast on your travels?"

Jack's mouth was slightly dry. "I don't know. I've never seen such a creature…"

Elsa sighed. "I was hoping that you might know what a 'huge black beast' was. Just kidding. Even if you travelled the entire world, I shouldn't really expect you to see monsters… After all, some stories are just stories…"

Then she cleared her throat. "I guess I'll have to be a party pooper again and close another party. Everyone must think I'm a huge party pooper. Jack, would you follow me? I won't mind your input in… this search for the children. Anna wouldn't be happy."

"Have you ever crashed a party?" He grinned at her in an attempt to lighten the mood, ease the tention between them.

She gave a rueful chuckle. "My coronation. I stunned Weaselton's duke when I let out a blast of ice. You should've seen the look on his face really."

"Weaselton?"

"I suppose the correct term would be Weselton… But he's _so_ much of a weasel that his town might as well be a town of weasels."

"Hey, the people in the town are innocent! You shouldn't be too quick to label others." He chides her lightly.

She smiled at him, revealing her perfectly white teeth. If Tooth could see those teeth, she might adore Elsa's more than his. He wasn't sure that the Queen of Arendelle would react well to a fairy pulling at her cheeks and peering into her buccal cavity though. Maybe he shouldn't introduce them… if he even had the chance to do so.

"I suppose I shouldn't," She keeps his tone light as well, though he thinks that it's more for her benefit. Her face, however, had her worry written all over it. "Olaf," She turns to address the snowman. "Go look for Anna and Kristoff for me, would you? I have a party to ruin."

Olaf sighed. "Well," He kicks the ground and a small puff of dust flies up. Jack thinks idly that Arendelle's summer was rather dry. "I'll go get them. Do you think Karla and Johan are okay? They are really nice people who play with me…"

Jack could see that Elsa thought them nice children as well. He vaguely recalls that the little red-head kid from the chapel earlier-the kid who pointed Olaf out for Elsa. If a kid didn't bawl at meeting the icy queen, she must be plenty brave and full of pluck. Even if Arendelle means nothing to him, he shouldn't let the children stay missing.

He turns to Elsa, resolute in his decision. "Hey, Elsa." He touches her shoulders before withdrawing his arm quickly. Could she tell that he was cold? "I'm going to stay to help, do whatever I… whatever I can to bring those kids back."

She gives him a long, calculating look. It was almost as if she was looking at a stranger. "Jack. Who are you really?"

"Me?"

"In the span of a day…" She shook her head. "You leapt down from the second floor and told me you were an acrobat, a runaway from a circus. But I've checked with people during the time you ran away from me and stayed out of sight that there's no circus nearby. Tell me, who are you and how did you get here?"

"I told you, I'm Jack the circus boy," It sounded like a poor fib even to him, and he doubts that she'd buy it. "I ran away awhile back…"

"And?"

"That's the… the truth."

"And you're treating me as if I was born yesterday. Tell me then, Jack. Who are you really?"

"I _am_ Jack."

"That's not good enough," She sighed sadly. "Does everyone lie to me?"

"No, I… I'm not…"

She turns away from him, preparing to walk away. Then she swirls around and grabs his arm. "Jack, tell me. Why are you cold?"

He swallowed. "That's because…" He swallows again and looked away. Should he tell her the truth? Then all those lies-why did he even go to the trouble of telling them? "I'm Jack Frost."

She released her grip on him. "Olaf told me. I didn't believe him, at first."

He turns around, his eyes searching for Olaf. That lying snowman! Where was he anyway? Did he really go off so quickly?

"And don't look for him. He told me earlier."

"Is he your spy?"

"No. But it seems fitting for _my_ snowman to tell me that he's met _the_ Jack Frost, the spirit of snow and ice. I'm the snow queen." She gives her last sentence casually.

She walks to the centre of the courtyard and climbs onto the fountain while Jack just stands there dumbly as he stared after her.

"Arendelle!" She yelled. "There's been an emergency, but I now order the party to cease! People, return to your homes and lock the doors. I want someone to light the lamps at the entrance and the bridge leading to the castle. If you must venture out tonight, do not go out alone and bring a lamp."

The people began murmuring resentfully, some hissing at her.

"I mean it. Please," Her voice lowered slightly but it began to sound strained, as if she was pleading with the crowd. "Go home for now."

The people continued muttering angrily, but they didn't argue. Many sullen looks were cast at Elsa though, and Jack wonders if this was the first time they had fun in awhile.

Elsa steps down from the fountain and goes to Jack. "Come on little Jack Frost. Even if no one else can see you, you're coming with me." She begins to walk towards the castle and he follows obediently.

If Bunny could see this, he'd say that Jack Frost was chained like a puppy that has finally learned his place.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

**Hello Guest, thanks for the review. And since I can't message you because you _are_ a guest…Seriously? "…put some action in it". I am planning to do so, but… I'm somehow a little irked.**

**Anyway, to the rest of you-happy reading! Happy New Year, and here's to a 2014, where I take my O Levels at the end of it. So I'd apologize for the subsequent terrible updates (At least, the updating-pace would be erratic and sporadic. Sorry guys). Thanks for reading/following/favouring/reviewing! It truly makes my day since well... school is looming round the corner and I absolutely hate waking up before 5am.  
For the first time in forever-I'm going back to school~ (That'd be second January. Argh)**

* * *

She's rather miffed over the fact that he didn't want to tell her that he was Jack Frost. Even if he didn't tell her that he was the one and only Jack Frost, the least he could have done was not lie to her as he did! Why go to the trouble of telling her that he was a circus boy? He must've been laughing at her expense earlier when his lie pulled off. To think, he could fool a queen!

She'd have to thank Olaf for scrambling up to her as he did; excitedly declaring that he had met '_the _Jack Frost'. The little snowman had been head over heels, literally, as he chattered on and on about Jack. She had to rearrange his body parts after he fell over and knocked his head underneath his toddler-like feet. The Jack she met-was he Olaf's Jack Frost?

The two tried looking for Jack after she had 'mingled sufficiently' among the people in the party; her presence as queen was required after all. After failing to do so, she had convinced Olaf to pretend that he hadn't told her anything about a Jack Frost being in Arendelle. She wanted to see if Jack, if he was _that_ Jack Frost, would fess up to his lies.

However, the moment she laid eyes on Jack again after dark-seen his pale hair, eyes and skin, she had imagined that he couldn't be anyone else but Jack Frost. But her confusion as to why he didn't want to tell her he was Jack Frost stopped her anger from bubbling to the surface there and then.

Then again, Jack Frost had a reputation as a trickster in all the stories about him. He was either a prankster or a malevolent spirit. Clearly, he was a true joker, adept at lies and false tales. Although, you've got to admit, anyone would prefer the playful version of Jack Frost over an evil version any day.

Did Jack have another side to him? She wonders. Were spirits able to conceal their true nature so well? Or were they able to assume more than one personality? Did they don masks and change them as often as the Greek actors using the masks of Malpomene and Thalia? She doesn't know, but something at the back of her mind told her that Jack, for the most part, could be trusted.

Her thoughts about Jack and her feelings were two ends of the continuum. Yes, he might be trustworthy enough in a sense; well, he hasn't tried to kill anyone, has he? She couldn't imagine him freezing anyone in Arendelle without someone else noticing within the hour-the town simply too small for that to happen. On the other hand, she was annoyed, and maybe, she felt a little betrayed, though she couldn't really place where the slight feelings of betrayal emanated from.

After she hurt Anna the first time, she had always wished Jack Frost was real. At least she'd have someone who knew snow and ice like the back of his hand to be with her; she won't be alone that way. A kindred spirit, if you will. Maybe that was why she wasn't hugely happy with Jack Frost at the moment. What was a person supposed to feel if someone that they had wanted to meet for nearly three-quarters of their life, lied to them in their first meeting? There wasn't a guidebook for _this_.

How did Anna feel when she had found out that Hans-the person she had thought loved her, to bring her away from the loneliness that lasted forever-was lying to her? Did Anna even have such complicating and conflicting emotions? She wanted to pull her hair. No, that was being unfair to Anna. She might be bubbly and cheerful most of the time (especially as of late), but Anna wasn't a shallow fool. Though admittedly, most would say that Elsa's emotion spectrum was more complex than Anna's.

Elsa turns her head slightly to see Jack still walking behind her, with a slightly forlorn expression, as if someone had kicked a puppy in front of him. Maybe her emotions weren't a continent's distance away from her thoughts after all. At seeing that expression, she felt a pang of pity for him, though she couldn't explain it either. Her feelings were probably scattered over the entirety of Russia-a country that was near, and yet, was huge.

Emotions were a confusing thing. Couldn't a snow queen banish it and not feel anything at all? Sure, she might be able to school her expression to a mask of perfect impassiveness, but she couldn't control the whirl of _everything_ going through her mind. How unfortunate. Another person might argue that it was emotions that made her human, stopped rulers from descending into a cold, detached tyranny that felt no remorse as they instilled fear and terror, executed a 'wrongdoer', or burnt livestock and homes just to keep them subdued, pressed firmly under a thumb.

Or maybe she wasn't a tyrant because of the family's book, 'Ruling Arendelle'.

She's read that thick tome seven times in her adolescent years, though it was now laid to rest in the library, left to collect dust. The book was a collection of accounts from a few of her ancestors. It dictated that the prince, in the ruling sense, carry oneself with the dignity and gravitas a ruler should have, and treat the people kindly, but firmly. The people should have a healthy amount of fear and respect for the ruler. They even quoted Machiavelli,  
'_Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with._'

Her grandfather had preferred love, as did her father. And of course, as did herself. Anna hasn't ever read that particular book, and she had no intention of letting her younger sister peruse the set of outdated pieces of paper bounded together. That was what it was really, a couple hundred of parchments tied to a leather binding.

Personally, she feels that the book is pretty useless. It spouted the age-old methods of ruling, but it wasn't a great book if you had to put it into modern application. Different times, different methods. She wasn't sure if Arendelle's people would appreciate it if she was to implement her great-great-great-great-great grandfather's number one rule. Who would want their all the pigs in town slaughtered if a single person broke a law? The old rules were ridiculous. For her, the key to ruling was to have sufficient morals and an adequate brain. That was it.

She continues watching Jack out of the corner of her eye. His earlier expression remained.

She almost sighs aloud, and resigned herself to saying something to him. Anger never helped anyone. She remembers hearing (circa ten years back) her mother's handmaiden telling her that a woman would acquire wrinkles if they fumed in anger for too long a time. She wasn't sure if such a statement was true, but she wasn't inclined to find out.

"Jack, why are you still here really?" The words escape her mouth before she could stop it. She blinked at them as she realized that question was something she had wanted to ask for a fair few minutes now.

He looks up at her and stared for a moment. Then he tapped his stick onto the ground and a thoughtful expression came to his face. The two stop walking as he seems to struggle with coming up with an answer.

Finally he says, "I don't really know."

* * *

Jack is still trailing after Elsa when she finally decides to speak to him again. Her question throws him off-guard. She hadn't taken it to herself to talk to him for the past few minutes, not even when they walked into the castle and began to climb the grand staircase.

He has to think, but really, he didn't know the answer to his question. So, he gave his response honestly, gives another truth to her. The Moon knew that he's told her a bad lie today. Earlier, in the courtyard, he had remembered the Moon and had tried to scope it out. But the smoke from the firework still clouded the dark sky, and all he could make out was a tiny sliver of creamy white against the grey. Oh well. He simply had to wait for the smoke to clear.

She eyes him critically, before seemingly deflating. She sighs audibly this time. Moments before, he could swear she had been about to sigh. "Fair enough. Let me rephrase this question then. Jack, why would you care if Johan and Karla have gone missing? I mean, they don't really concern you at all… You could… just leave, if you wanted to."

His throat is dry. Yes, she was telling the truth. He didn't have any obligations to stay and help Arendelle find two missing children; he was no guardian in a physical sense of the word. His centre is fun and he's only the Guardian of Children when it came to their psychological side, not their physiology. He didn't have to ensure that two children come out of a kidnapping scheme unscathed. Children went missing all too often. And besides, he couldn't just steal two children away from their kidnappers! That would be cheating… was it?

Somewhere, in some ancient law-book of the guardians, something like that might've been mentioned, maybe.

He knows that after becoming a guardian, he's been compelled to do certain things, like 'set' a time period for snow to fall and roads to be buried in sleet, but he hadn't ever felt the need to interfere when a human child has been properly kidnapped.

Sure, he might be allowed to help children find their way home if they get lost in their own accord, but if someone else has captured the child, he's almost powerless to do anything. He's heard that Bunny once tried to bring a child who had been back to safety; she had been kidnapped while she was away from her parents during an Easter Egg Hunt, and the nefarious man had appeared with a sack and had taken her. Bunny went after the man, but somehow, he couldn't ever touch her. Bunny's hands (or paws) kept passing through the child's body.

On a usual basis, the Guardians could carry children if they put in a certain amount of effort to it. But that was only if there wasn't anyone who would oppose the Guardian doing the deed. It was all rather complicated, those laws.

"Yeah I could," He agreed as he nodded, drawing himself out of his previous thoughts. So why didn't he leave, really? All saliva seems to have left his mouth as he tries to piece the words together. "But I won't. It's not right… I don't know. I could leave you to rescue the children and I don't really know why I'm staying, but I don't think it's right for me to leave like that."

"Do you have a hero complex then, Jack?" He can't see her face in the darkness. No one has lit the light in the dark hallway.

"I, uhh…" No he didn't have a hero complex. That was a ridiculous notion. Jack Frost, a hero-what rubbish. "Why is your dress torn?" He suddenly asked.

She opens a door. How did she find her way in the darkness anyway? Save for the _very_ faint glow of the lamp lights filtering through the window, it wasn't any different from being blind. Elsa didn't miss a beat, didn't trip and she didn't even have to fumble for the doorknob.

He wants to entertain the notion that she could see in the dark, but maybe that's too far-fetched. If she could see in the dark, she might as well be given Pitch's powers, sans the fear bit. Although, she _was_ rather intimidating…

She shows him in, pushing his back lightly, to guide him, so he could enter the room without hitting a wall. He narrowly misses tumbling into the door itself though. Elsa shuts the door behind him, and he watches in silence as she lit a sconce on the wall, casting a dim glow over the rest of the room.

He looks around the room appreciatively and sees that the room is not unlike a meeting room, with a long, white tablecloth covered table in the centre of the room. A crystal and gold chandelier hangs over the table, and everything about the room screams baronial and Venetian, with everything being white and gold. Roses sat in a large gold vase at two corners of the room, right beside the sconces. A gold-framed painting of Arendelle hangs in the middle of the left wall. At least the French windows weren't entirely made of gold-it being mostly white but possessing a few gold embellishments.

"This is the second dining room of the castle, but it doubles as a private meeting room," Elsa supplies.

She sits on one of the chairs as he walked aimlessly around the room. The chamoisee and champagne coloured carpeting rubbed against his feet, and he couldn't help but admire its softness. The room didn't look as if it came cheap.

As if sensing his current thoughts, she said, "The carpeting's nice, isn't it? It was my father who designed the room. In his youth, he wanted nothing more than to impress my mother…"

She began picking the pins out of her hair. "I don't suppose that I'll ever be commissioning a room to impress any suitor that comes after me. The heavens know that I dislike all of them to begin with-I won't even waste a single copper on them, if I had the choice not to."

She gave a sigh, and was it him, or did it sound almost wistful? "And to answer your earlier question, I tore the dress by snagging it against a rock. That's really rather graceful of me, don't you think?"

"You don't seem the clumsy type," He interjects softly. "How you managed to navigate the palace in the darkness without tripping once is a wonder."

"Thank you. You didn't do too badly yourself, walking through the dark unfamiliar corridors as you did. I've been conf- I've been staying in this very palace for my entire life. I know its walls like I would know ice and snow." He hears a chuckle laced with bitterness. "Though, I suppose I don't really know ice or snow anymore-you're real, and yet I don't know anything about you."

She does know how to pile on guilt. "I'm sorry," He murmured as he stared at the painting of Arendelle. The houses in the background seemed to pale in comparison to the grandeur of the splendid castle; a fairytale castle in all its beauty.

He heard the chair scrapping against the ground, though the sound was slightly muffled by the carpeting. She got to his side and he is forced to look at her. Her blue eyes were cold and frigid now,

"Why did you lie in the first place? Do you have an answer for me now?"

Did his saliva glands stop functioning? "I lied… Everything I say is going to come out sounding like a bunch of garbled, terrible excuses, don't you think?" The ice in her eyes remained. "It wasn't completely intentional, I didn't really plan on trying to trick you; the lies just came… You don't have any reason to trust me, a stranger, but that's the truth. I think that part of the reason I lied was because I didn't want you to know I was Jack Frost-I was scared of your reaction if you found out I was Jack Frost… It's not everything that I meet someone who could see me," His last remark comes out dryly.

"I can't be seen by anyone, unless they believe in me," He adds at the raise of her eyebrows.

She lets out a longsuffering huff, but the ice thawed. "There, you know that I believe in a Jack Frost. I believe in snow and ice-and the very essence of my belief has tricked me. Don't you think that's going to get to me?" She pulls her hair free and a long single plait of that pale blonde hair lies freely upon her back. Her fingers flicked slightly and the dress she tore earlier shimmers slightly as the dress turned powder blue and repaired itself.

"I would gladly receive penance for my misdeed," He watches her carefully and decides a shrug wasn't going to infuriate her. "Are you wearing ice?"

"What? Oh, yes, I guess I am. Considering that the dress is made from my powers, I guess it _is_ ice. Though, it doesn't really feel like ice." Her anger seems to have evaporated by now. "You're a maddening thing, you know?"

"Yeah, I know that," He grins slightly cockily at her and he's somehow delighted by the slight upward curving of her mouth. "Do you mind if… I touch your dress?"

Her eyes widen a little. "I guess so?"

He leans forward and places his hand on her dress. It _was_ ice. "Ice is usually a lighter shade-I would suggest an Alice blue, but the powder blue looks just alright on you." Well, she looked better than 'alright', but she didn't need to know that. If she ever asked, he would simply say that she was easy on the eyes.

"Are those patterns on your… clothing ice? Where did you get such clothing anyway?" She touched the fern-like dusting of ice on his hooded sweater. "Warm." Her comment was filled with wonder.

"I bought them from…" He paused. Should he tell her that he has lived in the 21st century? "Well… I got them from a shop in America."

"I don't remember ever seeing such a design," She mutters.

"It's a long story," He decides to just tell her that, at least for the moment. He didn't want to spin tales for her, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to tell her everything. He didn't even know what was going on-how could he be sure if he was telling her the truth if he told her he 'time-travelled'? For all he knew, this could be a very intricate and vivid dream!

"I'll accept that for now. Tell me Jack, what do you do?"

He almost laughed at her question. "Sorry?"

She gave him a look. "What does Jack Frost do?" Then she looked embarrassed, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she admitted, "Alright, I did spend time imagining what you might be like! I used to think that you would create huge snowball fights or huge blizzards somewhere… My teenage life was boring!" She adds defensively and he chuckled.

"So, I was your teenage fantasy?"

"I did not fantasize about you, ever."

"You were trying to imagine who I am. I would borrow a dictionary and look the word 'fantasize' up. Where's the library?"

"It spans the top floor of the west wing, but don't you dare slip off and look for a dictionary right now…" She seems to ponder over her next sentence before she says, "I would want you in attendance of the meeting. They are taking awfully long to get here…"

As if on cue, he could hear footsteps echoing somewhere down the corridor.

"Why didn't Elsa light the lamps really?" A female's voice complained loudly. He could hear a loud thud, and he guesses that someone walked into a pillar. "Ouch!" That would be Anna then.

"I don't know your sister too well; she's been in her ivory tower of sorts… There you go." The footsteps continued down the corridor and got louder by each passing second. Jack raised his brows at Elsa and she shrugs.

"What can I say? My sister hasn't ever been offered a part in the Imperial Russian Ballet."

He laughed. "She might not be Avdotia Istomina, but I'm pretty sure she's would draw some conclusions when she sees her sister talking to the picture on the wall."

"She once thought me a monster, so insanity shouldn't be too far-fetched," She says the sentence jokingly and Jack smiles. Did Elsa's actions once warrant her to be termed a monster by her sister? If she could joke about it now, she'd have gotten over it, and that thought pleases him. "I rather hope that she's not Avdotia-I don't want my sister dying of cholera and being remembered as a retired actress…"

"Nope, you don't. And there she is!" For the kick of it, he decides to yell as he announced the arrival of Anna and Kristoff. "Presenting Anna and Kristoff, the lovely newlyweds!"

* * *

It's a long time before Anna and Kristoff finally arrive, and as Jack bellowed the announcement of their coming and flew around the room as he clutched his stick, Elsa couldn't help but smile a little. Her cheeks ached from the effort of not allowing her smile to progress into full blown laughter. If she did that, Anna and Kristoff would find a way to send her to a 'humane' asylum in Western Europe. The thought of asylums scared her enough to straighten her expression and pull her back straight.

Jack continues to fly around the room, whooping noisily, as she greets Anna and Kristoff. Jack, oh Jack. It's only been a day, she tells herself, but somehow, he's made her feel a gamut of emotions that surprised her to no end. She finds it a little unfair that he's having so much fun swooping around the place while she's going to have to handle a little displeasure from her sister and brother-in-law. Jack was really… something else.

Anna was frowning as she said indignantly, "Hey, Elsa! Why did you have to break up the party? It was getting fun…" She sighed dramatically. "I know you don't have any bad intents; but I don't understand…"

Kristoff cleared his throat, loudly, as he always did. "I don't know about Anna, but the Akvavit was making everyone happy. I don't really get why you wanted to break this party up."

"Hello Anna, hello Kristoff," She responded pleasantly with a slight bow of her head. "I'm sorry that I've broken up the celebrations, but there's been a slight emergency."

"Emergency?" Anna echoed. Elsa notices that both Anna's and Kristoff's faces were slightly flushed-and she'd bet that they had been drinking as they partied. She herself hadn't touched a drop of that foul drink. She didn't like alcohol, thank you very much. Anything alcoholic burned her throat and made her feel much too warm. Why did anyone enjoy drinking something that seared their insides anyway?

Elsa nodded. "While I really like the idea of you marrying Kristoff-you've known him for three years after all, something bad happened during the party."

"Is it something particularly big and bad? Unless it was, I don't think it warranted breaking my party up…" Anna grumbled mulishly. Elsa would attribute her words to the drink.

"Want some chocolate, Anna? Cheer up. I'll throw another party when this crisis is over," Elsa proposed. "For now…" She waved her hands at the ruddy faced couple and flung a barrage of freezing snow at them.

That did the trick. The glaze in their eyes receded and brightened with awareness. She could hear their teeth chattering for a moment as they scrambled to their feet.

"Oh." Kristoff gasped. "What was that for?"

"Shaking us out of our drunken haze…" Anna shivered. "Brr… I'm plenty used to cold, but this? Elsa!"

"Sorry, that's the quickest way to get you to listen to me," Elsa intoned as she fought a laugh. Today's been fun. Jack stops flying as he lands at her side lightly. She heard his cheerful laughter as he watched Anna and Kristoff dust off the snow begrudgingly.

"That's wicked," He whispered in her ear and she shivered slightly. She attributes her response to his close proximity to her unease to human contact. She mouths a 'thank you' to him.

"Without further ado, can we start?" She asked the other two.

"Yeah," they nod and all three took their places at the table. Jack whistled a cheery tune as he hovered around them. What a show-off.

She was secretly jealous that he could fly, but she would hazard a guess that his magic relied on his stick while she didn't need any medium to project her powers. Whenever his stick bumped against her, she could feel a surge of foreign magic coursing through her, one that was decidedly icy cold but didn't belong to her. The stick was a rather curious thing really, but she strongly doubted that she could use it. It felt all 'Jack'. He commanded the stick-like staff really.

"So, as you don't have any idea of the happenings at the party…" Elsa sighed as she thought about it, this really was a poor situation-children being kidnapped at a royal wedding celebration? Some might remark that it would tarnish their family name. Maintaining reputations were a frightful bore, a terrible chore.

"Earlier, Alfhild Mathisen, you know, she's the daughter of Alf Mathisen, a fisherman, came to me and said her brother Johan and his friend Karla had been… taken. And you know 12 year old girls don't usually cook up ridiculous tales, especially not to a queen. She's said that the kidnapper looks like a wolf. Under ordinary circumstances, the royalty aren't bothered with the affairs of the people-not something as 'trivial' as kidnapping as you know."

Anna and Kristoff nod slowly as she continued speaking. Their faces were etched with worry-the two being ridiculously compassionate people. That's another thing she harbours feelings of envy for-being able to care about strangers as Anna and Kristoff could. Elsa, sure, she cared that two children were now lost, but she wouldn't lose too much sleep over it.

"But this event has occurred in your wedding-it would be a terribly bad show if we just let the kidnapper get away with the children."

"We need to get them back!" Anna exclaimed. "Even if it hadn't happened at our wedding, we still have to get the children back, Elsa!" She looked pleadingly at Kristoff. "We have to, don't we?"

Kristoff petted her arm lightly. "Of course we do."

Elsa didn't look at them. This was Anna and Kristoff through and through-humanitarians with too big a heart. Although, Elsa did like to think that she wasn't a heartless supercilious bureaucrat… Were there any official procedures that she was supposed to follow though?

Jack taps Elsa on the shoulder to get her attention. As she looked at him, he said, "Maybe someone could scout out the surrounding areas for those kids? It can't be too hard to catch a man with two kids… I mean, how far could they have gone? If they had a carriage, they'd leave tracks till the next rain comes by. You could send out a search party, and I would… well, fly around to look for them. I'll find a way to get the message to the search party if I see the two kids."

She took his suggestion in stride and voiced it to them. "I've been thinking that we should gather a search party to look for Johan and Karla. That'd be alright, wouldn't it? Well, the kidnapper couldn't have gotten far…"

Kristoff shot to attention. "I would do it. I'd gather a few men and head out to the forests. Sven and I can head to the Valley of Living Rock to ask around. They might've seen someone passing by. Who knows? The Trolls know a lot of things…"

Anna nods. "He could do that."

"The Trolls would probably be upset-they'd think that you two have already argued even though you've just gotten married." Elsa said dryly. She didn't even want to think about what newlyweds would do. "While I'm sorry to disrupt your marital bliss, you did volunteer to get the children found."

Kristoff nods. "I'll head out first thing tomorrow morning."

"Setting out the day after your wedding must mean something," Elsa muttered.

"Well, I'd go with him, but there's certain things I need to settle in Arendelle, isn't there?" Anna grumbled. "Do I really have to stay for all the… post-ceremony procedures Elsa?"

"Unfortunately."

"You said the kidnapper was dressed like a wolf?" Kristoff asked. "That's rather strange."

Elsa shrugged. "What can I say? Kidnappers are messed up in the head. I can't imagine why anyone would want to kidnap children…" Although, she did agree with Kristoff. Why would someone dress like a wolf to kidnap two children? Wouldn't the costume get cumbersome when he attempted his escape?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N is at the bottom. Disclaimer's the usual.**

* * *

He was weary even after sleeping the entire day away. His body felt stiffer than usual, though that wasn't really saying much. He might've been lying to her about having been an acrobat at a circus, but he certainly had the smooth suppleness, the natural flexibility and the somehow-graceful strength, of an acrobat. Not that he was praising himself, nope, not at all.

And his eyesight was duller in comparison to its usual sharpness, movements slightly slower than what he was accustomed to.

He wouldn't go as far to say that he felt as if he's 'feeling his age'—that would be the equivalent of feeling as though dead if he was mortal, considering that he was practically 300 years old—but he wasn't at his prime. How did feeling dead actually feel like?

He was even deterred from his usual jocularity when Kristoff finished announcing his promise to save the children. Fine, he was still hoping around a little madly, but he hadn't decided to freeze Elsa's feet to the ground or anything like that. Nope, he had been perfectly 'good' and boring.

Jack so wished he could see in the dark. He couldn't make out much of anything beyond the town, which was now well lit by lamps, courtesy of Elsa's orders. He could see the faint outline of the forest, the reflection of the full moon on the water, but that was it.

As his right hand clutches the wooden stick tightly, letting the frost spread from his hands and cover the rest of the stick in the icy fern, he's soaring through the air. The wind was strong and it worked in his favour, propelling him even more quickly through the cool, crisp night air. The air still stank of smoke, but the woods emanated a faint smell of pine and all things nature-ish—that he liked.

Earlier, Elsa's told him that he was welcome to stay, and that he could have one of the many guest bedrooms if he wanted to sleep in the castle. Now, he's on a self-imposed mission to look for traces of the kidnapper, maybe even find a way to freeze him so that the children wouldn't get any further from the town.

Jack turns to the moon, begging answers.

"Hey, are you there? You're North's Moony—are you there? Why am I here? I mean, you've never really talked to me much, but can't you see that I need your help? Who chucks a Guardian through time anyway? Am I really here, in Arendelle though? There're so many things I want to know MIM. I've even paid you a couple of compliments—remember the time when I said that your words were always meant to be trusted? Yeah, so tell me MIM, please.

"If you won't tell me why I'm here, at least tell me why I'm here… Tell you what; you could just say if I'm actually in Arendelle, please? MIM, do you know where those kids are? Kids don't deserve to be plucked out of their hometown and dragged away by a terrifying stranger…"

Does the MIM respond to harangues? Well, apparently not. His words were met with silence, not that he didn't expect it. MIM never answered unless he wanted to. He was such a temperamental git.

In fact, he was the worst deity-like being ever!

MIM probably set atop his moonstone throne and ate green cheese as a delicacy, laughing at the little critters wandering upon Earth, sniggering as they scrambled around frantically to conduct their daily routines… etc. Or maybe all deities were like that, he mused. Deities didn't really answer to everyone's prayer, did they? He wouldn't know. As a Guardian, he doesn't pray, and he doesn't remember if he had ever prayed.

At that moment, he vaguely recalls some story that North's told him and Jamie about the House of Lunanoffs, but he didn't really remember the specifics. Oh right, MIM was the Tsar Lunar. Maybe if he acted all polite and formal when he posed his question, the _Tsar_ Lunar might deem it fit to reply to a 'lowly subject' all the way down on Earth. That might be worth a try some other time. For now, he's too irritated because of a strong desire to sleep and MIM's unresponsiveness to fake a polite persona.

He lands at the edge of the town, taking a deep breath as he inspected the thawing sea—looks like Elsa didn't freeze it permanently. He wonders if she could control the duration that the sea remained frozen. Most of the sea around Arendelle has already melted; the seawater surfacing and the waves fighting for control once more as fragments of ice get swept away slowly, but there was still a very thin layer of ice surrounding the town.

He walks quickly around that particular thin layer, hoping to find traces of the kidnapper's footprint. Fine, it wasn't solid ice; it was more like ice with a coating of snow. Most of the snow looked like freshly fallen snow—pristine and white, untouched. The ice beneath the snow did feel perilously thin though, warning him not to stay on the ice's surface too long. He might be Jack Frost, but he didn't really enjoy the prospect of the ice breaking (or in this case, melting) beneath him. He might just end up taking a plunge.

He marvels at how Elsa's magic could sustain snow and ice on such a large scale in summer. His magic didn't work too well in summer, though it did marvellous things in winter. Maybe it was because he was a Guardian, his magic being bestowed to him somehow—it wasn't innate—and that he had to follow some of nature's rules. Well, MIM didn't offer any answers on that either. Ah, the questions of life.

Then he comes across a ball of black fur. He picked it up and juggles it for a moment before frowning at the sour smell that drifted from it. Five more steps forward through the darkness grants him view of a mess of footprints. It was really too bad most of the ice had melted away; he really wouldn't have minded using a trial to locate the children.

This area was particularly dark. Through the gloom, he could make out the wooden jetty nearby. The nearest building (that held a lamp) was a slight distance away. Jack crouches down to inspect the snow, the ball of black fur still in his hands.

His effort told him that there were four sets of footprints in the snow, two of them were really rather small and dainty—definitely Johan and Karla's footprints.

Another set were slightly larger, and the imprints made in the snow were the slightest bit heavier—Alfhild. He begins to think that he liked playing detective.

The last pair of marks in the snow was large, huge even. They were each spaced a fair distance apart, so he had only 2 sets of those to work on. Around the first set were those of the children, but the second set closer to the edge of the water were not accompanied by any other footprints. He'd wager that if that man had worn shoes, they would've been a minimum of size 20. Did any female even have feet these big?

He's strangely enthralled by those prints, those were _big _feet, unless of course he had somehow decided to wear shoes a few sizes too large for him. He looked carefully at them, and found that even though they made large dents in the snow, they weren't particularly heavy steps. He finds another tuft of fur in the first set of footprints (That were mixed with the rest of the children).

What a strange guy-why wear an animal pelt in such weather? What sort of kidnapper wears animal pelts to kidnap children anyway? An ultimate weirdo.

Jack sniffs the fur. It carried the stench of a wet dog that hadn't seen a bath for months, or maybe years. Okay, he stands corrected then. What sort of person wears dog or wolf pelts that held such a foul odour? Jack scrunches his nose in disgust. It reeked. Gross.

Rather reluctantly, he places the fur gingerly into his sweater pocket to keep it for Elsa to look at—maybe someone has seen a strange (and rather smelly) man walk about clad in an even stranger outfit made of black fur.

He hopes that his clothes won't stink after this.

Then an idea struck him and he withdrew the ball of fur from his pocket and uses the tip of his stick to tap the tuft, encasing it in a solid ball of ice. He allows himself a few seconds to admire his handiwork before putting it into his pocket once more—stink free.

He turns towards the skies again and continues roaming around the periphery of Arendelle. He dips low, skimming the edges of the forests, allowing the needle-like leaves to brush against his clothing.

Come on, where was that man? Once more, he curses his (currently) dull vision and hates not being able to see in the dark—footprints didn't exactly glow in the dark. Maybe he'd be able to try the fjord tomorrow when there was light. For now, whatever he was doing was absolutely pointless. A bitter smile crosses his lips as he thinks of how utterly useless, that he is feeling right now.

His body agrees with that conclusion with great reluctance. A rest was sort of handy right now.

* * *

Elsa stares into the darkness of the night sky, leaning heavily on the balcony. Her body tells her that she should be tired—that she needed sleep—but her mind was alive and it buzzed with a million thoughts. Mostly, she was worried.

This was the very same balcony that she felt emotions that were termed 'joy' this very morning, she reflects ironically, or was it past midnight yet? She didn't really want to venture down the hallways alone to check the nearest clock for the time. It was in the library, which, although just a slight distance away, wasn't something she wanted to do in the darkness. She might've told Jack that she knew the hallways like the back of her hand, but it didn't exactly mean that she adored them.

What was she to do? The fate of the two children was resting in her hands right now and although, in all technicalities, she could abandon them to face certain death, she couldn't. Anna's reputation rested too much on the children's safe return for her to make such a selfish and callous decision.

Besides, Anna and Kristoff wanted the children back. The passionate little—fine, not so little—Anna who wouldn't hurt a fly, but would scale mountains just to help somebody else. That was Anna for you.

Soulfully fiery Anna and mournfully chilly Elsa—both sisters—it had to be rather poetic.

She envisions that their creator—there _had_ to be someone, or something, that put the magic in her after all—had looked at their souls before they had been materialized into a mortal form and sniggered as he placed the two perfect contrasts within the same household.

With great power comes great responsibility, and with great responsibility comes the great need to wind-down and cackle with laughter at someone else's misfortune.

Thankfully, she didn't have that sort of 'great power'. She merely had a moderate amount of it, but nothing more.

Another unpleasant thought crosses her mind; she had the power that a common peasant on the street did not have. And yet, she was powerless to save two children that was kidnapped by a _mere man_. To think, she had to rely on another to save the two children, from a complete nobody, a person who probably held no power!

Unless, this was a political agenda? Someone who devised to kidnap children on the wedding of the Princess Anna of Arendelle to make the rulers of Arendelle look bad, shame us all when if we failed to retrieve the children safely and create dissent among the people? She shook her head, no, she mustn't think of such things; three years as a proper queen has made her overly suspicious, only the greatest villains out there would think of using innocent young children as pawns in the harsh playing field of politics.

Then there was Jack. She still didn't know what to think about Jack Frost, but her mind was abuzz with thoughts of him when it wasn't preoccupied with everything else. She did have a lot on her mind, being queen and all, especially with what had happened earlier today (she would simply think that it the clock hasn't tolled its twelfth hour yet).

Alright, meeting Jack Frost might've been a teenage-dream come true, but she was in no way going to ever admit that—certainly not to him, not all of it at least. She's going to withhold such information from him. But she was right—he did have hair that was almost like snow itself.

She was interrupted from her musings and started as something tapped on her shoulders. She turned around to see who it was looking for her at this time of the night and saw the still-closed door. That was _very_ slight comfort to know that no one had snuck up on her from the inside; she could usually tell when someone tried to creep up on her, especially if a door had to be open. Her senses hasn't dulled too terribly then.

Her heart accelerated slightly as she spun wildly around to look for her new, unseen, unknown companion—who was it? Her mouth goes dry as she clenched her fists slightly together and ice begins spreading from her feet, creating a circle of ice on the balcony. The layer of ice thickens slowly, ready to strike if her visitor was hostile.

She spies something moving to her left, and though she wasn't sure what it was, she lets out a blast of ice towards that general direction. Her heart lightens as she recognized the voice that had let out a slew of imprecations following the icy flare.

"I've never pegged you for someone with such a foul mouth," She laughed as he emerges into sight.

"Huh. Says the person who was unleashing a few insults earlier today. Who are you to say that I've got a choice vocabulary? Oh right, you're the queen. Anyway, you've been thinking about me again, have you?" He flashes a toothy leer at her, but it was one with no malice.

"You wish," She tries to slap his arm lightly but he dodges out of the way easily, hanging from his stick as he suspends himself in the air. "Neat trick you've got there—that flying business."

"Thank you," He gives a mocking bow as they both laugh. She's thankful for his presence; he was comforting, smoothing out the tight muscles in her neck as the tension eased.

"What brings you up here anyway?" She asked. "Shouldn't you be sleeping soon? We've got a long day tomorrow… That is, if you want to be there, of course. Forgive me for being presumptuous if you didn't want to stay for all the boring talks while we planned."

She herself was dressed in her nightclothes. It was pale white and floor-length, the typical nightly ensemble of a richer female; she didn't really want to wear the same things all day, and wearing a dress of ice for sleeping was maybe a 'little much'. She didn't think that any other aristocratic girl would lace the inner-side of their clothing with ice though.

"I don't think you're being rude or anything like that," He shook his head lightly as he grinned. "Besides, since you're the only one who can see me at this current point in time, I don't suppose I mind your presence. Shouldn't _you_ be sleeping though?" He countered.

"Couldn't sleep," She admits. "You?"

"I've been out flying," He replied. Her mouth curls slightly upwards at that—he did smell a little 'woody'. One more thing to curse whoever gave her powers to her—she couldn't fly. Flying was something that she truly longed to do one day. Flying was a true declaration of freedom, there weren't the rules an ordinary person had to follow.

"I suppose you have," She conceded. "Is flying fun?" She blurts out her question.

Before she could retract her question for being too abrupt, he offered her a sight of his perfectly white teeth once more as they were exposed in his grin. "Sure, it's terrific. Maybe I could take you one day… Maybe." What a tease. "Anyway, pressing matters first. I went out flying just now because I sorta hoped that I could find our missing kids and that batty dude who's taken them. Though fortune isn't being all terrific on us—so you should start praying to the Roman god of Fortuna for more luck—I've found something."

He takes a ball of ice out from his pocket. She could see a black lump inside it. "This." He lands on the railing and bends down slightly and clamps his toes tightly around it, seemingly maintaining a firm grip on the metal. That done, he lowers his staff to tap the ball of ice and it melts, revealing a soggy black mass of fur; she wrinkles her nose as the wind blew a malodorous odour in her face. A whiff of it made her feel a painful need to gag as bile rose a little way up her throat.

"It reeks!" She exclaimed. "Like a horribly wet dog that hasn't been clean for his entire life, no, a dog that has spent its entire life frolicking in its wastes; what a terrible smell! What in the world is this?" With that hasty outburst over, she added hurriedly, "Sorry for my outspokenness, but that is truly a foul smell."

"I'm not going to argue with that," He nods grimly. "And while I apologize for presenting the royal highness with a smell so bad in the middle of the night, I would tell her that she doesn't need to apologize so much. Seriously though, I'm not one of those royal courtiers, ambassadors… whoever there is that you see on a daily basis (to make you speak like this), I'm not that. So don't keep apologizing, it's kinda awkward for me. But since I'm in your presence, pretty please?"

She allows herself a smile as she shifted slightly. His eyes were practically imploring her to concede to his request. "Alright then, I'll try my best."

"Good. So, as I was saying, I found this while I was out flying. More precisely, I found it on the snow you created earlier, on one of the last patches of snow around Arendelle. There were four sets of footprints there, two of them were really tiny, so they'd belong to the two little kids, a slightly larger one that would be Alfhild's, and in the largest one… Well, I found these."

He holds up the fur for her to see, putting it in the glow of the lamplight from inside the room. "The footprints were _really_ large, like this… " He freezes the fur again with his stick as he tucks it into his pocket. With the stick, he freezes part of the railing and creates three snowballs and begins to juggle them, and she couldn't help but giggle inwardly at how _random_ the action seemed to be.

"Look at the ice on the railing. His feet were that big. I don't think women would have feet these big, do they?"

She looks down at her own pair of feet. They didn't even measure half of the length of the ice on the railing, though the basis of comparison wasn't all that terrific since her feet were after all, rather dainty little things.

"No idea, but as they say—I wager a female wouldn't have feet these big. They must've been a giantesses feet," She jokes and he laughs. He flings a snowball at her and she throws one back almost lazily, unruffled by it. It hits him squarely in the face and she laughs at the startled expression; the widening of his eyes and drop of his mouth were really rather hilarious.

"I did not expect that," He intoned after he recovered.

"No, you didn't."

"I see you aren't all that uptight. I did expect you to start yelling at me though."

"Shouldn't I be a little offended at that?" She fakes a huff, but she's watching him twirl his stick with some unmasked interest.

"Maybe you should. So, I'll placate you. What say you if I bring you flying some day?"

"Are you bribing the queen?"

"Maybe," He doesn't appear the least chastised. "Even if I am, what are you going to do, order me to be flagellated? Tsk, tsk, that's totally inhumane."

"You're right—flogging isn't my style at all. How do you know me so well?" She's bursting with anticipation as she replies slightly breathlessly, "Though, I do really want to go flying, one day. Maybe not tonight… there aren't any stars."

"But there's the moon," His voice sounded slightly edgy as he said the word 'moon'. "But I'll pinkie promise—do you royalty do pinkie promises?"

"I used to," She divulged slightly embarrassedly. "I did these things with Anna… though I've broken some of them. I hope you don't follow my example though."

"And break my promise to a queen? I'm not looking to be detruncated… Does Arendelle actually have a guillotine? No, don't tell me, I don't really want to know the answer to that." He offers her a pale hand, sticking his pinkie out, revealing perfectly clean fingers and clean white fingernails.

She lets her own perfectly manicured finger wrap around his and he gave her a quick, triumphant nod as he says, "I, Jack Frost of… well, the Guardians, promises to give Queen Elsa of Arendelle a flying experience one day, preferably when the sky is full of stars. This is a pinkie promise, not to be broken!"

"Pinkie swear?" She asks innocently.

"Pinkie swear," He promised and his cheeks colour slightly. "Oh dear moon this is embarrassing, totally demeaning. I do promise though. But for now—_sayonara_, _tschüs_!_"_

He flings himself off the railing as he waved and began to fly towards the direction of the guest room that she had pointed him towards earlier. That was a hasty goodbye. '_tschüs' _she understood well enough, but what was '_sayonara_'?

"Remember to look forward to a night where the stars burn bright!" He hollers and she smiled as she watched the outline of his stark white hair; he has landed on the balcony of his room and he's waving to her. She waves back at him as she turns back to enter her room.

Wolves howl in the distance, and her hair stands up. Wolves were all too common in the woods and she didn't know why the hair on the back of her neck stood up at their mournful tribute to the moon.

* * *

Jack sleeps through the entire night. His sleep had come easily to him—he hopes that it was the same case for Elsa, she'd have a long day ahead today—and he's up at the crack of dawn.

The sun streamed in through the open windows, yearning to flood the room in all its glory. The birds were already performing their circadian ritual as they sang their morning song. The flowers were displaying signs of their desire for their sun as their stretched out their hearts towards the golden orb in the blue sky that stretched onwards ceaselessly, without a speck of white.

Maybe he was waxing poetic, but the morning was truly a pretty sight. But he did wonder where all the clouds went… weren't they in preponderance just last night?

Contrary to the tranquillity of the morning scenery outside the window, the air held a certain quality to it. He felt slightly stifled, and if he was a cat his fur would be standing on his hackles. As a human (more or less), his stomach fluttered a little and his heart thudded just slightly faster than it usually did. His gut told him that something was about to happen; the air was holding its breath, waiting for _something_ to descend on them.

Jack rubbed his arms together as he banished the cold sweat creeping up on his skin. The fact that he was sweating never boded well—he doesn't sweat because of the weather—it takes quite a bit to alarm him, turn him this apprehensive. And he trusted his gut; living for such an extended period of time as he did gave him an uncanny instinct, one that rarely went wrong.

Why was he worrying so much? He snaps at himself mentally as he careened around the room, loosening all the muscles that were stiff from sleep. He grabs his stick as he whizzes past the brown armchair and he stops his quick motion as he defied Newton's theory of gravity. He knocks into the wardrobe and a painting of Beowulf and Grendel. In the gold-gilded mirror, he catches a frown crossing his face and he hastily wiped it off. He was right; it didn't do anyone good getting distressed over nothing. He didn't make storms out of teacups and he wasn't going to start.

With that, he smartens up his appearance, adjusting accordingly to his reflection in the mirror. He smoothed his hair down, letting a very small volume of meltwater slick his hair down and hold it flat—at least for the next few minutes or so—a voice at the back of his mind told him to look presentable. He straightens his shirt but gives up on his jeans. If he gets back to the 21st century, a new pair of jeans would be in place. Of course, he'd nick the same style and cutting of jeans, he _was_ rather partial to this particular cutting (a little bit skin-tight) and the light brown colour it had.

Jack opens the window and flies down to Elsa's room. Ah, the joys of flying. Hopefully, she hasn't locked the window…

He tries the French window and it opens. _Ah-ha_.

Jack cracks a mischievous grin as he sees her sleeping form. Damn, she was a _good_ sleeper. She didn't drool, her hair was still tied neatly in a side-braid, most of it still in place, and she slept on her side—not sprawled in an unseemly fashion all over the bed. In a millisecond, he was hovering above her, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest and listening to her steady breathing.

He feels a little guilty as his stick taps her forehead to spread a thin layer of ice over it. That wasn't enough apparently, it only elicited a slight flutter of her eyelids.

Oh right, she didn't feel the cold like everyone else did. Well, in that case…

Jack creates a swirl of snow and ice, and flings it swiftly at her face. He leaps backwards as she shoots to attention, her eyes wide open, though slightly bleary with sleep. She sits up straight in her bed and looks wildly around before she catches sight of him.

"Hey!" She protests, her voice slightly scratchy.

"Oh dear, have I ruined your hair? No harm done. It still looks… perfectly in place. Good morning Queen Elsa."

Just before he attempts another one of his mocking bows, she stops him, "Don't you _dare_ bow at me! Little scoundrel, I should really have you flogged for this…"

"Someone's got up on the wrong side of the bed," He remarked dryly and she retaliates with a snowball flung at his head, which he dodges deftly, of course. He notices that there were dark circles under her eyes. "Do you put makeup on usually?"

"A little," She replied absently as she slipped off the bed. "Now Babette would be wondering why the bed was wet… Maybe Helge would find out and she'd think that I decided to empty a glass of water on the bed…"

Oh right, she did wear makeup. The eye-shadow of yesterday wasn't present on her eyelids, her face being bare as it was now. He has heard that some girls did wear makeup to bed though, but wasn't that terribly awkward and uncomfortable? He does note with slight amusement that she had hurried into her bathroom to perform her morning absolutions and probably to neaten her appearance as well. She looked just fine as she was though…

* * *

The moment she stepped into the bathroom, the blood that had threatened to flood her face the second her eyes fell on his grinning face erupted into a blush. She splashed her face with water from the basin and the heat left her face.

Elsa of Arendelle wasn't used to being caught off-guard, and this sentiment would be amplified in the morning.

She was in no way a morning person. Would a morning person have to drag zombie-like body to the bathroom each morning? Her body felt calcified each morning, as if it had frozen over itself in her sleep. That was an interesting notion she could examine—could her magic freeze her as she slept? Or maybe it was just another downside of being a human. If she hadn't been woken up by Jack this particular morning, she'd probably be trudging to the nearest cup of coffee and snapping at anyone who got in the way.

It wasn't proper for a male to appear in a lady's room as she slept! How could he just… appear in her room like that? Thank heavens she didn't look as Anna did after an entire night in bed; it would have made this morning go down in her 'worst things to ever happen to me' list. Her hands shook slightly as she doused her face in another round of cold water.

Though, she was rather thankful that he had roused her from her dream. Bad dreams weren't her idea of fun. Her 'not being a morning person'-thing was worsened by her lack of sleep. _Let's not think about that_ she urged herself and wiped all thoughts from her mind as she reached for her badger-hair toothbrush.

She emerged from the bathroom after having washed-up, done her hair and applied her makeup. Jack, with all his brains, knew not to make a sound to ridicule her when she had been in the bathroom. Alright, she didn't look absolutely horrendous before her morning routine, but she hadn't exactly been a vision of glory before the removal of grit from her eyes and the application of facial paint.

She found him suspended from the gold ceiling as she walked out.

"Hello to you, Queen Elsa." Gravity pulled his snowy hair downwards to reveal his alabaster forehead and his ever-present grin was plastered on a contrite-less face. She struggled to find her voice, which she had found to have suddenly failed on her. She'd blame it on the fact that it was morning.

"Jack!" She exclaimed as she regained her voice. "Why are you in my room? Didn't your mother teach you that it's not right to enter a lady's room if she's asleep?"

He did another of his acrobatic stunts and landed on the floor in a nonchalant manner. "I don't exactly remember what my mother taught me you know. Most of my actions are driven… by my innate thoughts."

She could examine his personality one day as well, but for now, she'd accept that explanation. She does feel a little bad though and apologizes. "Look Jack, I didn't mean to mention your mother—and if I've somehow insulted her in anyway, I'm sorry."

"There you are apologizing again! Don't do that!" He almost yelled.

"I'm sorry! I just do it; it comes out as it does!" Her voice rises slightly. She's surprised by the heat in her voice.

He blinks for a moment. "Did I just raise my voice at you? Well then, I'm going to have to apologize. We're stuck in a limbo of apologizing to each other all the time, aren't we? I'm pretty sure we've said sorry to each other more than some other pair of people in their entire lifetimes in a single day. It's not even been a day and… how many 'sorry's have we said to each other?" He raised an inquisitive brow at her and all the tension left the air as they start laughing.

He stops laughing first and goes all serious, "But if you do have an issue with me waking you up in the morning, I won't do it—this could just be the second promise I make to you. So, do you want me to promise?"

She almost snorted (but she doesn't do snorting, not really) as she began walking towards the door to leave the room and heard him follow. "So, you are saying that if I don't force a promise out of you, you'd continue visiting me each morning?"

His amusement was palpable as he replied, "Oh, maybe. Waking you up isn't exactly the most boring task ever. I might even say that it's fun." He whistles a tune to a song she doesn't know.

"Right. The way things are going, we'd need to have all the fun we can get. I don't know how it is like in America, but entering a lady's room isn't right. It would seem as if you were courting me."

She opens her bedroom door and they step into the corridor.

"Well, I'm not about to say anything about that." He gives a nervous laugh. "What's the agenda for today?"

"I'm going to meet Kristoff so we can send out the search party, and I'll have to settle some issues with Ivar over the grounds, the heavens know how much of the property had been damaged in the drunken party last night. I'll probably have tea with Anna today if Kristoff is gone for the day. Emil—one of the messengers—had said that an ambassador from the Southern Isles would be coming either today or tomorrow. As for you…" She stopped and turned to look at him. "I don't think I have any say as to what you should be doing for the rest of the day."

"Sure you don't," He replied lightly. "Is this what queens do every day? Meet boring people to do boring stuff?"

"I suppose I do things that are in your definition of 'boring'. Is there anyone else who could meet ambassadors to discuss all the affairs that need to be discussed? Arendelle is too small, we've got too little people; there's no other education aristocrat I could assign to negotiate or have a tête-à-tête to talk about trade. Emil has promised that the ambassador would come bearing some interesting news, but what does that entail?" She sighed. "But yes, you _are_ right, the things I do aren't terribly interesting. Still I have to do them."

"Why?"

"I said it—there's no one else to do it."

"Your sister could," He points out.

"No," She said fiercely.

"Why not?"

_Yeah, why not? _"I don't think she should."

"I'm still waiting for an explanation here." He taps his feet on the ground and makes a noise that no one else could hear.

A small thought at the back of her mind asks what that sort of existence would be like—where what you do wouldn't impact someone else in an obvious manner, per se. His magic might cause someone to slip and fall on the ice before they curse the snow for being in the way, but who actually believed _Jack Frost_ had created that snow? Was that a pitiful existence? Converse to being a person who had the responsibility to do everything all the time, a person whose every action could determine the fate of her country, was such an existence truly bad? She didn't have an answer to that.

She does have to think of an answer for Jack hasn't she let Anna do some of her work and share her burden? That's right—it was a _burden_.

"I don't let her do these things because she shouldn't have to. I don't like it as it is already, Anna doesn't have to be subjected to these menial tasks. I could do it by myself, there's no need for her to have to waste her time on these things when she could be spending time with the ever-wonderful Kristoff," She offers her reply.

"Menial, my foot. You just said that you did the 'affairs that need to be discussed'," He quotes her word for word, and she's mildly impressed. "I still don't get why you deprave yourself of fun for such a ridiculous reason. You could have fun with Kristoff yourself, couldn't you?"

"Are you trying to scandalize me?" They are looking at each other now and she raises her eyebrow. The bright sunlight from the window caused her to narrow her eyes slightly.

He laughed. "Scandalize you? I wasn't making a reference to anything. Just… out of curiosity, but did anything ever happen between you and him?"

Her eyebrows shoot further upward. "Sorry?"

"I said it."

She lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. "No, never. He's been perfectly loyal to Anna and I wholly appreciate that. Anna and Kristoff are perfect together—I granted their marriage, didn't I? Don't you think it's really, really inappropriate to be talking about a non-platonic relationship with my new brother-in-law?"

"Maybe. How did our conversation get to this point anyway?"

"No idea," She's relieved that he has decided to drop the matter over Kristoff.

No, she hadn't done anything with him, no, never. That would be a betrayal of Anna's trust. That would mean that Kristoff wasn't Anna's. But his heart belonged to Anna and Anna only—to her knowledge, Kristoff hasn't ever strayed, hasn't even felt tempted to stray.

She doesn't ever want to examine the particular night where she had shamelessly tried to act on her then growing crush on him. Thinking about it now, she only felt more ashamed of herself. She might've been a little drunk and so had he, but she shouldn't have thrown herself at him like a common slut, a common whore. Abashment didn't even begin to cover it. Thankfully, he had pushed her off, staggering away as he muttered, "You are no Anna". If anything more had happened, even _mortification_ wouldn't cover it.

"So something _has_ happened—you're blushing," Jack concluded, his voice jerking her out of her thoughts. "I'll drop it; I don't think you'd have done anything too bad anyway… You wouldn't have been able to face Anna otherwise. You don't seem like the sort of person to advocate polygamous relationships, do you?"

No, she wasn't. She's gotten over her crush for Kristoff anyway. With slight guilt and shame, she would admit that she's only 90% over him. She's reflected over this matter the day before Anna's wedding. She does know that she didn't really _like_ Kristoff, per se, but she had liked the idea of having someone trustworthy, someone that she could trust and love, someone who'd return her love unwaveringly.

"No. You?" She doesn't even know why she posed such a question. Words were slipping out of her mouth all too easily this very morning. Or maybe it was Jack that was making her blurt everything out—she's realized that speaking with him had no particular strings attached, no obligations, nothing. He was just someone she could converse with freely.

"Me? I'm not all about love and relationships," He lets out a laugh, dissipating the tension between them yet again. "I can't exactly act all lecherous or licentious if most females can't see me anyway."

"Are we actually talking about sexual behaviour right now?" Her face is now tinted pink, but her voice betrayed her amusement.

"Uhh, I'll steer away from this topic. You don't really seem comfortable with it, are you?"

"No. I'm going to have breakfast now—do you need to eat?" She pushes a door open.

"I don't need to eat, thanks for asking, but let's just say I prefer eating."

"How so?"

"I don't die from… not eating. But do you think I _like_ having my stomach growling and aching from hunger?"

"I don't like being hungry, so I doubt that you would. What would you like? Helge can make anything. The Mathisens make the best bread for towns around, though, with the disappearance of Johan Mathisen, they might not be making bread at all. On the other hand, they might not even _notice _he's gone—the Alf and Gerte I saw were drunk as lords even before the skies darkened."

His face twisted slightly at the mention of the Mathisens but he replied lightly, "You could pick something for me."

She's slightly thrown off by that, but she pondered over it nonetheless. "Would pancakes do? With your American pancakes—Norwegians eat our pancakes for dinner. And maybe kippers, eggs, sausages, mushroom and tomatoes. We could have coffee, milk or juice—which I usually add ice to," She adds as an afterthought.

"Cold drinks are better, aren't they?"

"Definitely," She flashes a grin at him. "Now, we finish breakfast, and we're going to do everything we have to do today."

"It's a long day ahead, eh?"

She supposes repeating a word she had just used wouldn't hurt, it was an apt choice of word anyhow.

"Definitely."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hey guys!**

**Most of my chapters seem like filler chapters, don't they. I don't _really _mean to make them seem that way; but I'm not a good writer, not by a long shot, even though I'm a self-proclaimed narcissist most of the time. I just... write. So, I'm sorry if I tap some time out of your day while you guys are perhaps hoping to read something that would move the plot forward, and instead, you find something like this -_- **

**Another thing: I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR 20 DAYS. I THINK it's 20 days, right..? (The last update appears to be on the 31st of December, but time differences.) Before school started, I had been updating every 3/4 days, and now we're down to 20. I'd beg your understanding, me being 16 and a student in Singapore, which means that I'm taking my Os at the end of the year and I'm aiming to get into ACS(I) to take the IB program they offer; it's among the top 3 in the world, producing scores that average 42/45... Sorry for the ramble but. It's just me explaining that I... uh, have academic pursuits that might seem extremely trivial 10 years down the road, but it's important to me now. (Okay, I want to get into ACS(I) so I might have a shot at taking a perfect score for IB and making it into Oxbridge for medicine or something.) **

**How do people write expository essays? I've got issues with my Thesis Statements. Like cries. **

**Still, thank you all for sticking with the story! (perhaps) eternal gratitude to all who Reviews, Favourites and Follows! I don't really have any idea _why_, but they put a smile on my face. Heh. What do you guys like/dislike/feel about the story really? **

**Till we meet again when my school doesn't give me mountainloads of work to do! **

**(School starts at 740am, we report by 720. School ends, officially, at 2.20pm, but we usually stay till 3-4+. With other activities, 6 o'clock in the evening it is and the traffic I've got to brace makes me get home at some horrible time where I'm usually bone-weary-sort-of-sleepy and die on the sofa before I actually get around to doing anything productive). **


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you _absolutely_ sure that you want to head the expedition, Kristoff?" Elsa pressed.

She didn't really want Kristoff to leave Anna behind, but there was a part of her that knew that Kristoff had to do this. Elsa doesn't like the thought of it, but reputations _are_ reputations. And the two closest to her had _their_ reputations weighing heavily on this.

"I'm sure," Kristoff nodded resolutely. "I can't just let a brute snatch away two kids like that, that's not right."

To her side, Anna chips in, "Besides, Kristoff and I could have our honeymoon at any other time, we don't even _need_ one, I'm happy just having him with me. But Johan and Karla don't have all the time in the world. They might be in trouble as we speak! If I could, I would go… but…"

"But you won't," Elsa finished for her. "A lady can't just… well, set-off from her town like that, it isn't proper."

Anna muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'I did that once and I could do it again, and don't be hypocritical for you left Arendelle once too' under her breath.

"Pardon, I didn't catch that."

Anna's voice came imploringly now. "Elsa, you know I can't rest knowing that two kids are out there in danger. Please, I know that you don't think that I should be… doing such unladylike things and that you worry for my safety, but don't you trust Kristoff to keep me safe? Besides, it isn't improper—I _am _going with my husband. Ooh, I like that word, husband." She finished her sentence with a slight squeal, deviating from her former seriousness.

"And besides, it's not as if we'll be alone—Bulda and Cliff would be with us," She barely heard the addition Anna made.

Elsa sighed and looked away from the hopeful expression that Anna wore in her pleading gaze. Why did mornings always have to be terribly difficult? Her breakfast with Jack had started her day off really rather well. She could sense that they had both been holding themselves back from each other, not conversing overly freely, but they had kept up a light-hearted rapport as they laughed and joked around. It helped that he wasn't too terrible to look at either.

She gives herself a mental slap at that thought—one did not simply think that way of a stranger, a person she has just met a day ago. Although, admittedly, the stranger was someone she didn't really consider a stranger, and, if anyone else could see him, they'd agree that he wasn't an ogre either. She shouldn't give herself a headache trying to define her thoughts about Jack right now. She was already experiencing the beginnings of a headache with Anna's pleas.

'Speaking' of Jack, where was he? She looked around the room subtly so that she'd not appear odd to both Anna and Kristoff if she suddenly began to turn her head about wildly—well, even if she had, did it matter?

A small voice inside her asks if she thought it necessary to maintain some sort of appearance in front of _Anna_ and _Kristoff_. Anna, her sister, the sister who loved her and whom she loved back with all her heart; the sister who still accepted and loved her despite her having almost killed her, despite being a complete 'monster' with ice powers. Kristoff, Anna's (newly acquired) husband who grew up among the Trolls—Pabbie, Bulda—and loved his reindeer Sven despite Sven being well, a Reindeer. Kristoff who practically had a heart of gold just as Anna did.

Maybe she needed a break from politics and work after all. After this fiasco and after Anna and Kristoff enjoyed their honeymoon, she'd take some time off to rest and relax and absorb the fact that not all people were cunning, conniving and evil, a political shrewd or simply a snob. The Ice Castle sounded like a good place to take a holiday at, Marshmallow would be there to keep her company, and maybe Olaf would go with her. And maybe Jack…

Jack was right; maybe she could let Anna handle some of this work. There was always Erling around to help her if she needed it. A few days away from work wouldn't have the Arendelle fall to shambles right?

A slight glance around the room let the corner of her eye catch the sight of a head of white hair that belonged to a particular Mr. Frost standing on the edge of her table, trying some balancing act or another. She almost smiles at the sight but turns away as she faces Kristoff, looking at him squarely, straight at his light-brown eyes.

"Kristoff, can you safely say that you'll be able to ensure Anna's safety?"

"It's not what I'll usually say but I swear to protect her even if the skies were falling. If the sky was falling I'll hold it up till she's able to get to safety," He nods at her once again and she returned it with a slight incline of her own head.

"All right then," She relents. "I might be Queen, and I might be Anna's sister, but you're now her husband, and I shouldn't keep you two apart—am I to think that you would fail to protect Anna? I should not be thinking that way, I've entrusted my sister to you, for health and sickness or worse, or whatever Pastor Sloss has said, right?"

"Right!" Anna gave Elsa a long and tight hug, which felt ridiculously warm and she feels compelled to push Anna off so that she'd not feel as if doused in water fit to make tea with, but she doesn't. Anna finally lets go as she says, "Thanks, Elsa. Come on Kristoff, let's go! The men are already waiting outside, aren't they?"

"They are."

"That's quick," Elsa comments.

"Well, it helped that Alf Mathisen and Håvard Jespersen came up to the castle's gates at daybreak with a horde of men that stank of Akvavit and begged to be allowed to search for Johan and Karla," Anna says mildly. "And thanks for allowing me to be excused from all the post-wedding-ceremony ceremonies—they are an awful bore."

That _was_ quick. So the Mathisens and Jespersens did notice that their children were missing. That was… almost impressive, considering that they should be nursing hangovers right now.

And oh dear. Those ceremonies, they _had_ slipped her mind, but she's given Anna the 'go ahead' to leave with Kristoff and the Trolls while the other men search for the children, she couldn't exactly stop Anna from going now right? She was really being too soft, and forgetful this morning.

Jack chooses that very moment to allow a trickle of ice crawl up her spine and she fights down a shiver. His ice magic put her on such an edge she had couldn't actually fully suppress her shiver. Though, it wasn't a nervous edge, not exactly, but she couldn't place her finger on the feeling.

She wants to glare at him, but Anna was watching her closely. Thankfully, Anna chooses to shrug and ignore her little shudder. "Elsa, we'll do our best to get the kids back as soon as possible, so don't worry and just… do your queenly duties. Really. When we get back with the kids, they'll be perfectly alright and we could go sledding together! I don't know, but we could just have some fun, all together!"

Elsa brushes all thoughts of Jack aside and she smiles at Anna. "Sure we will. But I wouldn't want to begrudge Kristoff, stealing you from him as I would be."

"Nonsense," Kristoff grunted. "We could all go have fun together, really. Anna and I have forever to well, spend alone-time together."

Elsa looks away and hopes that it wasn't a lecherous grin that Kristoff had just flashed Anna; that seemed totally out of character and she felt that it was terribly awkward for her to witness. Some things were best left in private. This allows her to see Jack laughing, bent double, instead of just hearing it.

"Well, we best be leaving then," She hears Anna say from behind her. "Oh Kristoff!" She hears her younger sister shove her husband playfully as they leave the room, shutting the wooden doors behind them.

"Elsa, oh Elsa," Jack waltzed up to her. "Your cheeks are pink."

She arched a brow at him, daring him to elaborate.

"You're embarrassed. This is what you get for locking yourselves up for too many years—rather innocent to the ways of the world aren't you?" He accused with no real malice. "Anyway, they _are_ married; they could… do anything they want."

"Are you done yet?" She sighed.

"Not really," Jack flashed another one of his grins at her. How did he keep his teeth so clean? She nearly cursed as she realized his smile somehow managed to distract her from her annoyance with him as he continued talking about how… abashed she felt with a slightly flirty display.

"In all seriousness," He made a (very good) serious face as he looked at her, "You'll just be seeing more of these displays in the years to come. You'd have to get used to it. Haven't you had any suitor for yourself? I mean, you're pretty enough."

She shook her head. With some satisfaction, she saw Jack's cheek become slightly tinted with pink. "I haven't had a proper suitor," She explained as _his_ brows rose at her. "I've always rejected them. Look at this!"

She sauntered over to her desk and pulled out a letter from the mounting stack of letters, though there were many others still stashed in the drawers. She began reading its contents aloud.

"**_Dear Queen Elsa of Arendelle,_**

_"__**The Duke of the Isle of Berk, of the Barbaric Archipelago,**_

"I've not actually read this letter, you know, Jack. Where in the world is the Barbaric Archipelago? Who would name an area the Barbaric Archipelago anyway?"

"No idea. But I've been there—a spirit mentioned in passing that it used to snow in the Viking ages year round, so I had decided to deliver an everlasting winter to them once more, especially considering the first time I had been there was when I was still testing my powers out."

"Really."

"Yeah."

"**_Duke Odon would be delighted to extend a hand of partnership to the Queen of Arendelle through his extension of a joyous hand of marriage. The Isle of Berk is ever-snowing, and I feel that this environment would suit the lovely Queen Elsa greatly, of whom I have heard plenty an enchanting tale. As Duke of—"_**

Jack made a face as he cut her off, "You could put that down now. I kinda get the point of why you rejected all of them."

"Never meeting me in person and wanting marriage? I would give a jewel from the vaults to see what goes on in his head!" She exclaimed heatedly as she chucked the letter to the side. "What manners! At least the others ask for permission to court me instead…"

"Would you like to burn them?"

"Don't you dare."

"Why not?"

"They would come in handy, say, Arendelle somehow faces bankruptcy within the day."

"Ouch. So, you'd accept his marriage proposal if you somehow screw up in your running of Arendelle?"

"Well, it's for the good of the people," She sits down at her desk and picks up a roll of parchment tied with a red ribbon. "I've got to arrange the cancellation of some of Anna's and Kristoff's appearances with the Arendelle public. And this," She waved the parchment. "Is most likely the next document I've got to sign regarding some castle repairs or some other thing that doesn't exactly concern spirits such as you."

"Kicking me out eh? Subtle," He clicked his tongue as he nodded at her. "Well, I suppose I'd be off then, to get out on my own searching."

She doesn't look up as she unrolled the parchment. "Sorry, but you do that."

She hears him slip out of the window, but that comes after him tapping his staff onto her desk, creating ornate designs using his ice powers. As she stamps the document to allow Ivar to contract another gardener, she couldn't help but let her gaze linger on the icy flowers Jack had drawn.

They were beautiful.

* * *

The wind he summons carries Jack swiftly across Arendelle, letting him soar as freely as an eagle would in the blue skies. Jack whoops and thrills as he stretches out all his arms and legs to their full length, enjoying the way the breeze fluttered through his clothes.

Kristoff and Anna would be off to the Trolls now; he'd probably go there himself later. He knew the Trolls; they were spirit-like, as he was. They didn't exactly have to be believed in to be seen by humans, but the Trolls had perfect camouflages to hide themselves from a prying eye. Besides, the Trolls were smart, they knew lots of things.

He calls for the wind to still him, and from his high vantage point, he could see the bright red hair of Anna alongside Kristoff's blonde. Beside them tottered three other figures, two dark gray and one white, Bulda, Cliff and Olaf. A man appears, bringing two horses.

The second group that emerges from Arendelle were a group of five men. Two of them looked like 'ordinary' villagers. One held a pitchfork, another held an axe of some sort and both of them dressed like ordinary peasants. The other three men were clad in brigandines and had sword bayonets strapped to their backs. All five were mounted, the non-soldiers riding donkeys instead of proper horses.

The two groups went their own ways at the forked path that greeted them upon their exit from Arendelle. Anna's group went towards the fjord while the other went into the forest. Jack gave a whistle as he mouthed a 'good luck'.

For now, he'd just… fly about. His plan was positively lousy, but maybe, just maybe, he'd have a chance at finding that man. He couldn't exactly help find the children since well… he couldn't _interview_ _anyone_, or something. Whatever the police did in the 21st century to locate lost victims, he couldn't do it.

But Jack takes out that horribly smelling ball of black fur and sniffed it. Maybe something so smelly wouldn't be that hard to find.

* * *

Meeting with the ambassador from the Southern Isles has tired her out in a few manners too many. Elsa rubs her forehead, trying to ease away the tension she was currently experiencing at her temple.

Her head pounded with the newfound knowledge which told of possibilities she didn't want to entertain now. Her appetite had quickly dissipated the more Ambassador Trond spoke. It wasn't exactly Ambassador Trond's fault, the man had been perfectly charming—all political, oiled black moustaches and monocle—but whatever he had said wasn't what she was particularly inclined to listen to most of the afternoon.

He had came in after a lunch she shared with Ivar and Erling (discussing matters pertaining to the castle's repairs with Ivar and those of Arendelle with Erling, all business as usual), before Ivar had to announce Trond's entrance into the palace.

Trond had entered with a band of guards armed with socket bayonets. Trond had started with the usual, they had discussed trade. Arendelle had still continued to trade with the Southern Isles despite Prince Han's little stunt; the Southern Isles did grow surpluses of crops each year after all, and since Arendelle's farms were a little on the puny side, the wheat the Southern Isles could offer was valuable. And Arendelle did earn a healthy sum from the trade of cloth and refinery of goods.

The king of the Southern Isles (oldest brother of the lot of 13) had bestowed upon Hans a comeuppance so severe she almost winced, key word being 'almost'. Two and a half years ago, it was Trond who had come to Arendelle bearing news that Hans had been lashed ten times with a birch whip and had been sentenced to a manual labour of sorts for a full year. Trond had also brought a lengthy letter of apology.

This year though, the King Haakon had decided to 'further improve improving relations between Arendelle and the Southern Isles' and had offered a proposal of courtship from the Third Prince Herlief. Trond had gone on to say that the Third Prince Herlief was but 38 years old and was still a catch in the looks department and was perfectly suave and debonair, and so on.

Too bad. The moment the word 'courtship' came out of Trond's mouth, her headache from her meeting with Anna had started properly.

Trond had ended that part of his verbal beleaguer with a sentence that had sounded similar to 'the Prince Herlief would very much look forward to a positive reply'. Well, she almost told Trond to shove it, but that would be rude and utterly uncharacteristic of her. Besides, it wasn't Trond's fault that his superiors deemed it fit to offer her a hand in marriage.

The next topic he had breached caused her fledging headache to transform into some pterodactyl flapping in her head.

Apparently, he had inquired if Arendelle had seen a man clad in a black wolf-pelt. A hundred and five children had been taken from the Southern Isles. The bodies of five had been 'returned' to the Southern Isles, those five delivered in a massive, jewel-inlaid trunk, left at the very gates of the Castle Hoyde.

Words had been carved into the trunk's lid, '_Blood of the innocent_'.

The trunk had reeked of rotting flesh and the sour stench of blood as it had been opened in front of the King Haakon, whose voice trembled with trepidation and rage as he ordered for it to be opened. The servants that had marched up to the trunk had faltered slightly before hefting the lid open.

It opened with a resounding creak to reveal the perfectly still bodies of five children. Each child possessed different appearances, but Trond had said that all of them had no eyes left in them; their eyes had been gorged out. Most of their innards weren't… intact, either.

Elsa had been sickened.

The five children were the first five taken from the Southern Isles.

'_If it was not such an act of cruelty, I would say that it was an art in itself, the manner he had been able to keep the children's bodies; although their flesh might have been rotting, they were still preserved remarkably well._'

The first, a young girl of eight, was said to once own long and flowing flaxen locks of hair. Her mother, one of the Castle Hoyde's servants, had arrived at the scene and had begun screaming and wailing. When she calmed down enough to speak, she had uttered, 'they had said that my daughter had hair spun of gold.' Her dead body had a blood encrusted scalp, hairless.

The next child was a boy of three. A perfect act of maceration had occurred for him, save for the head that remained. The skeleton that had been laid in the trunk was a small one and was stained with blood.

_They were taken in a female, male, female, male, pattern._

The third and fourth child, a four year old non-identical twins, were simply laid in the trunk. Evidence of being strangled all too obvious on the girl, where purple splotched her neck. The boy looked to have been gutted various times, though, they couldn't determine the exact stab that had caused his death—there had been too many. Though, it wasn't the line that marred his stomach—that was a line found in the three other bodies (that still had the lower half of their body) to remove their intestines. Their deaths were unceremonious in comparison to the first two, the method of slaughter common for murder.

The last girl, aged nine, had been killed in a way that caused her to close her eyes as Trond told her the gruesome tale. Skin flayed before piece by piece had been cut off. Some of it showed evidence of having been burnt before it had been flayed. Trond had then said that the skin of her legs, or whatever remained of it, looked to have been tied. He said that the Royal Coroner had said that the child had most possibly been hung from her legs as the cruel act had been committed.

After Trond finished relaying his message, she had said, 'Arendelle has had two children taken, just yesterday'.

Trond could only nod at her, and reply, 'Our King Haakon would be most… comforted to hear that. If I might reveal my King's motives for sending me on this trip, he had mentioned that he had feared that it had been men from the neighbouring lands who had taken the children—acts to display political aggression, if you will. He would now be assured that it was not Arendelle who had done this, though, one could not even begin to fathom that Arendelle would commit such an act.'

Trond had also gone on to say that it was three years back that the first child was taken from the Southern Isles—right after Prince Hans' permanent deportation from Arendelle.

She had then asked if the proposal of courtship was related to this. Trond confirmed it, saying that although the Prince Herlief had earlier wished to offer Elsa a hand in marriage, he had not sent his message to Elsa before this. If Arendelle didn't have children kidnapped, they'd be accused of 'committing an act of sheer aggression against the Southern Isles and appropriate action would have had to be taken'—Trond's exact words, though he had said it in a lamentable manner.

In sheer guilt, she had thought that it was 'just as well' that the children had been taken. She didn't exactly want to marry a Prince Herlief simply because she had to assure the Southern Isles of their current state of political neutrality.

She rubs her head again as she sank into the folds of her bed. The servants who had come to deliver her dinner had been dismissed and she'd forgo her dinner for the night. How could she eat anything at this rate?

"Elsa."

She jumped as Jack's voice sounded at her ears and her eyes snapped open. "Jack," She breathed. "I didn't hear you."

"Mmhmm, sorry," His impish face came into view then. "How's your day been?"

"You came in through the window."

"That I did," He sounded thoroughly amused at her accusation. "You know, you should consider installing _locks_ for your windows. I mean, anyone could just climb up the palace's walls, open the window and poof, they are in your bedroom."

"There's a reason I have guards stationed at the ground floor on patrol, and that my bedroom's on the highest floor," She muttered. "But my day's been trying, thank you for asking."

A sudden coolness touches her forehead and she sees that Jack's staff was pointing at her, creating ice all over her head.

"Better? Us Americans like to place ice-packs on our foreheads when we are sick."

Her headache lessened to a dull throb, so she told him she was better. He grinned, satisfied, and leaned back. They sat in silence for a short moment, him smiling vaguely and rocking on his hunches before he broke the silence.

"Though you didn't ask about my day, I'd tell you that it wasn't the best day I've ever had. Would you mind if I go first?" She shakes her head. She didn't want to tell him anything about what Trond had said, it conjured too many graphic images she didn't want to have in her head. There wasn't anything she wanted more than to wash that horror from her mind, cleanse it.

"Well, you know that I went out after your two little parties right? I didn't stick around—I mean, I flew elsewhere, swooping around in my ever-failing hopes of finding that excuse of a man. No luck there. I stuck around your five-man party for a little bit. I must say, they respond well to ice appearing on branches so that they don't sweat as much. Bravo." He clapped his hands.

"Then I went to the Trolls. Kristoff and Anna were there already, Anna… is she that boisterous on a usual day? She hugged Pabbie and almost began to chatter before that Kristoff stopped her. She was the one to relay everything to Pabbie. Yadda yadda yadda, but Pabbie didn't know anything. They're pretty much heading back to town as we speak, I think."

"That they are. They aren't going to stay out for tonight," Elsa confirms absently. She was playing around with her powers, creating a small ice statue. She tried to shape it to look like Jack, and thank the Heavens for some shred of artistic talent. Though admittedly, she was no Michelangelo.

"I stopped to talk to Pabbie, but Pabbie said he didn't know who took the kids. But he did tell me something... He had said that the moon had told him to tell me to 'be prepared', though I can't see why the moon wouldn't tell me that myself…"

"The moon?" That had lost her.

"Oops, did I not tell you? Umm…" He thought for a moment and she lays her sculpture down for a moment. "You know that I'm a spirit right? That's why I can't be seen by most people, unless I'm believed in of course—that I think I've told you, maybe." He musses his hair. "The moon—he's the Man in the Moon, he's almost a spiritual deity for us spirits on Earth… how do I say this? It's almost like a hierarchy, I'm kinda ranked lower than he is. He's a right arse, the moon, an idiot. He knows everything, but he doesn't _say_ anything."

"Jack!"

"What?"

"You don't just call people 'a right arse', or an 'idiot' for that matter!"

"Oops, sorry," He shrugged, though he didn't seem to least bothered by it. "Ruffled your feathers have I? Sorry, but that's uhh, how I speak. I could explain what technicalities I have as a spirit some other time, but well, that's it. There's something on your mind though—did something happen?"

Well, she wouldn't dwell on his use of language, not now. She didn't need to get all 'correct and upright'—as Anna puts it—when her head didn't appreciate it.

"I even skipped dinner because of it," She blurts out her starting statement and the corners of his mouth quirks slightly, though his face morphed into one of worry.

She began telling him about what Trond had told her, skipping the bit on trade since it was practically irrelevant to Jack. Jack had laughed when she had first mentioned the Prince Herlief's proposal, but his face turned solemn and grim as she relayed the last bit. She was pretty sure they both had bile in their throats by the way his face greyed as she told them of the children's fates.

The eyes that usually seemed to dance with merriment darkened considerably in obvious anger and his fists were clenched. She looked at him worriedly.

Jack exhaled. "Sorry, I just…" He got up and begun pacing quickly, skittering across the room. "It's just… inhumane! What in the world…"

"I know…" She sighed.

"It's just, that's psychotic!" Jack yelled. His eyes were wild. "He's a complete nutcase!"

She got up and walked up to him, placing the unfinished sculpture down on her side table before doing so. She touched his shoulders lightly, tentatively. Thankfully, he calmed down and his voice quietened, though it still shook slightly.

"Sorry. I haven't told you this, but, I'm a Guardian, a Guardian of Children. I'm supposed to protect them, not let children get taken from right under my nose. I'm completely useless, aren't I? I can't even find a clue to lead me to that obscene terror of a man! What sort of Guardian am I?" His capricious blue eyes, a pair of eyes that now betrayed his desperation and sudden hopelessness, bored into hers and she her throat tighten.

"I'm a terrible one," He whispered, anguish laced in all his words. "I can't even get more than three people to see me. If they were awake to see him, everyone would see North, everyone would see Tooth…"

"Jack." She says as she voice finds itself. She grabs his shoulders and shakes them. "Stop. Whatever a Guardian does, I do not think that you are going about terribly about it. I think that you are a good Guardian, and the word of the Queen regnant is possibly the best you can get. Are you to defy me, Jack, challenge the Queen of Arendelle and say that she is lying? I would have you executed if you could be killed in such a manner."

It gets to her, his self-doubt, his insecurity. She was by no means the most confident person on Earth, she doubts herself time and again, but it's been three years since she last felt an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

He manages a weak smile. "Well, then, I'll take it. I'm the Guardian of Fun for children. They have enough fun, I see to that… But it seems as if I can't protect them, not physically…" His voice was laced with bitterness and she almost shakes him again, though, she didn't really want to touch him right now. Her fingers had felt overly warm when she had done so—what happened to Jack feeling all the right temperature when she had first met him?

She lowered her voice, sotto voce, "As Queen, I command you not to show such a side of yourself. Where's the Jack Frost in you? Jack Frost—you did say you are the Guardian of Fun, right? Then cheer yourself up, don't lose heart."

"Anyway, I know that Arendelle doesn't have a guillotine. Pabbie told me," He changes the topic as he allowed a smile with more strength to grace his face.

"You asked?" She's somewhat bemused.

"I had to—I like my head on my shoulders, thank you very much."

"I could still have you hanged."

"Pabbie said that Arendelle hasn't ever put anyone to death since the 1500s. You're a stickler for tradition, aren't you?" His smile was now wry.

"That, you might be right, on some counts. But exceptions to the rule could always be made, and your head is a fairly pretty one… Even without the body, it'd look good hanging on the wall. Do you think Arendelle needs a taxidermy collection?"

His eyes widen as he careens backwards and falls to the ground. A bewildered expression spreads over his face before he goes, "Oh, what the heck," And before she could chastise him for his language again they are both seized in a fit of laughter.

The underlying tension in the air, however, tells her that they were in the calm before the storm. Her magic in her veins surged in her veins, cold and steady, only that it was colder than they usually was. They stop laughing as they look at each other in a sort of solemn silence, both seeming to be thinking of the current situation at hand, worrying.

They couldn't rest till they found the children—it was a matter that pertained to many aspects of her ruling, to please the people, to placate the Southern Isles… She imagines that the Southern Isles would be hugely pleased to hear that such a foul man had been apprehended. A death sentence wouldn't be out of the question then, though she didn't really want his blood spilled on the lands of Arendelle; it would taint her homeland.

"Sleep early, Queen Elsa," He finally says. "Another long day ahead."

"Yes," She agreed. She turned back to her bed. "Next time, when you enter my room, knock. Be it the window or the door, knock."

He manages a sheepish smile. "Alright then, I promise this time, fear of death and all."

* * *

**A/N: I've just found out that Tangled was set in the 1780s… and considering Disney made Repunzel appear in Frozen (and since she cut her hair she couldn't exactly be immortal and stay young-looking till the 1800s, could she? Considering my story is sorta set in the 1860s. Well. Sighs at timelines. Can I blame Disney for this or can I not blame Disney for this. **

**Does anyone actually read these things hahah **

**Anyway, the usual-thanks for reading, reviewing, etc! :)**

** (and no, it hasn't been edited. I'm a completely lazy arse, sorry; I'd edit it another day when I don't have much idea of what happens in the chapter)**


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